MR 6: Story of My Life Riiiiight
by mfingatfan
Summary: Three months after foiling Mr. Chu's nefarious plans, life for the flock is good. Too good. That is, until the CSM wants to film a documentary about the flock. The movie brings a new life, but also new danger. Can Max save them before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here it is - sorry it has taken too long. Actually - I will be honest - have not gotten past chapter 5 so updating will not come as quickly in the beginning. I plan to post every other day for a while and only one chapter at a time. I know - lame. Anyway - hope you like - tried to keep it in the Max style - so let me know when I falter. And I hope it lives up to your expectations! :D**

**Chapter 1**

**Los Angeles, California**

"And you can snap your fingers and the whole world freezes?"

"Yeah! It's really cool! Wanna see?!"

"No, no," Anna Banana whipped her head slightly so that her blond waves flew across her face. Her fingers quickly pecked away at the super standard size laptop that rested on her long skinny legs. "Any other unique abilities that we should know about,… er… Gasman, is it?"

Gazzy immediately leapt onto the shiny green patio chair he'd been sitting in. He threw one arm into the air and pointed at the sky. "Yeah! I can make a force field to defend myself from the evils that strike mankind." He was starting to sound more and more like Superman with each passing moment.

"Force field?" Anna Banana's eyes stretched to the size of bowling balls.

"Yes," Iggy said with a straight face. "Gazzy emits a cloud around his body that shields him from others." The pregnant pause in the conversation urged him to continue. "Typically happens when he gets scared or nervous." Iggy smiled broadly in the direction of the Gasman. "Or when he's downed ten bean burritos."

Gazzy patted his stomach. "Yeah, that was a good lunch." He burped, a belch that lasted at least five seconds.

I rolled my eyes – again – and moved my car on the game of Life sprawled out in front of me. For those of you that are completely clueless about our current situation, join the crowd. I was too. Just couldn't see why I was spending another Friday afternoon in sunny Southern California lounging at a pool playing Life with the other three members of the flock. Downing my third coke, munching on finger foods of every variety, letting my wings fan out in the bright afternoon. It was a pretty rough life. Guess somebody had to live it.

Actually, life had kinda been like this for the past three months. Relaxing. No one chasing us. No one trying to kidnap my mom and keep her locked up at the bottom of the ocean. Hanging out with the flock while talking to some ninny about what we can do. The first month of this, I was twitchy. Kept checking over my shoulder every five seconds. Waited for something bad to happen. But nothing did. Nothing bad happened. And for a group of kids who were used to something traumatic taking place every – oh I don't know – five seconds, well, safe to say I was understandably edgy.

After several weeks of jumping every time someone tapped my shoulder and snapping at Nudge every time she talked too much or too loudly, I began to realize that perhaps I should ease up. Calm down. Relax.

"That's right, Max," I heard a small voice say beside me. "Relax. Everything will be okay. No one is coming for us. Not for a long while."

I looked at Angel, shot her a fleeting smile to match the innocent one on her angelic features. From a normal seven year old, her words would have been a simple naïve reassurance. But Angel was no normal seven year old. Unless of course normal seven year olds could drop a grown man to his knees with one swift kick to the chest or flitter about in the air like a hummingbird. Or talk to fish and breathe under water. Or perhaps nowadays your run of the mill seven year old could – you know – read your mind.

"No one, baby?" I looked at her skeptically, rustled her curls. They sat atop her head in ringlets now, making her look like a blond Shirley Temple.

"Uh-uh." Angel shook her head and stuck a blue peg in her Life car. "We're very safe here – for at least three more months."

Did I mention Angel also had an ESP thing going on?

I sighed and flashed a quick look at Fang. His dark hair hung low over his face, but I still caught a slight crook upward on the corner of his mouth. The Fang equivalent of a Cheshire Cat grin.

"Yeah, Max. Relax. This place is so cool. Did you know they have three pools here? There's even one in the shape of a guitar! Oooh – and I read somewhere that you can get a manicure and a pedicure at any time of the day or night. And they'll paint your nails like three different colors if you want them to. I think I'll get mine done in purple, pink, and chartreuse." Nudge fanned her chocolate fingers out in front of her lap. "I don't even know what color chartreuse is but it sounds really cool. I'm thinking of using that as my stage name." Her head bounced up, her smile lighting up her face. "Chartreuse Oliviana Bangles. What do you think?!"

Nudge was our in-home motor mouth. We were still trying to find her "off" button.

"I think…" I shifted in my seat and stared at Gazzy who was now flying through the air and getting ready to dive bomb the pool. "I think we need to move."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Too late. We all scrambled quickly away from our table by the edge of the pool, to no avail. Gazzy dove into the water at over one-hundred fifty miles per hour, creating a splash that sent water fifteen feet into the air. The water then rained down all over us, Iggy, and the blond beauty who had been interviewing Gazzy for the past thirty minutes. Her gorgeous never out of place wavy blond mane now stuck to her head like a wet t-shirt on a size D supermodel. Good thing she had just put up her laptop while she went to get her third Evian in the past hour. Of course, her pure bottled water now had some deep chlorination to it.

Allow me to explain the tall blond banana. Her name really was Anna. I think at one point she told us her last name, but I'm not a huge stickler for details. Besides, Anna Banana just kind of stuck. Especially because her long, tall white body made her look like a long skinny banana. And her head was typically in a stretched out position giving her a little curvature to the top part of her frame. And… she always seemed to wear yellow. Like today. Today's outfit of choice was a canary sundress with brown polka dots making her look like an overly ripe stretched out banana. But enough on the banana thing. I was getting hungry and I had just eaten lunch an hour ago.

Anna Banana stifled an astonished scream while Nudge chastised our own fair-skinned blond eight soon to be nine year old.

"Gaaazzzy!" Nudge squeezed water out of her chocolate mane. She had recently had her long hair coifed in about fifty long braids that flew out of her head like twisted yarn waving in the wind. "I was just about to get married!"

"He didn't get the board, Nudge," Angel reassured her. "Just knocked a few pieces off and the cards are a little wet but that's okay. We can just start playing over here." She redirected Nudge to a series of tables on the outskirts of the pool.

"That was totally awesome!" Gazzy cried out as he surfaced. "I'm going to do that again!" He leapt out of the pool and smacked a high five with Iggy.

"How about we stick to the interview, Gaz," I reminded him. "Or are you done pretending your Superman?"

Gazzy smiled broadly. "But I am Superman." His face drew in momentarily and his eyes darted about. "No – wait. I'm Super Gasman." He took a heroic stance, pointed his finger in the air, and scrunched up his face.

"Ewww, Gazzy! That is just gross!" Nudge grabbed her purse – yes, Nudge now carried a purse – and almost flew to the other side of the pool.

Gazzy had just demonstrated his skill – for the sixth time since lunch. He couldn't really freeze the world, but his ability to stink up the planet could be loosely interpreted as some sort of force field, I guess. No one would want to be anywhere near him when he lived up to his chosen name. Gazzy could do a few other things though. Had a talent for mimicking anyone or anything. In fact, he had the lanky banana chick thinking Jack Nicholson was in the house when she first arrived.

Oh – and Gazzy could fly. We all could. Some genius super-scientists decided to try a little science experiment with our embryos before we were born – graft avian DNA into them. And hey – it worked – how about that? The six of us had wings, could actually fly, possessed raptor vision, la, la, la… You get it – we were part bird. Guess that's why Hollywood was mucho excited about making a movie about us. Hence the interview. Yeah – the never-ending interview.

For the past two weeks, the flock and I had been coming to some fancy schmancy hotel in Los Angeles, telling our life story to Hollywood's finest screen play writers. Okay – the playwrights came on occasion. Mostly, the big wigs sent their secretaries or interns or gofers or whatever to talk to us. I think Anna Banana was an aspiring playwright. And I say _was_ because the gleam in her eye that she entered the hotel with was immediately doused with Iggy's and Gazzy's immaturity and my exceptionally polite behavior.

"Well, there goes another one," I huffed, glaring at Gazzy. Anna Banana was gone along with her laptop and her bottle of Evian. Any hopes of not getting a Jeb lecture about our cooperative natures walked out the pool gate with her too. I think this was the seventh person that StarLight Productions had sent to talk to us. And now tomorrow we would meet number eight. Lucky us.

"Yeah, too bad," Iggy loosely replied. "She was pretty hot."

"Oink," I retorted to our lanky red-headed pig. My face flushed a new shade of red. "And just how would you know?" Never mind. I didn't want to know how he knew. I knew how the blind kid knew.

Uh-huh. Iggy was blind. Wasn't always this way. Actually had his sight for a good first half of his life, then the same evil genius scientists decided to try to enhance his night vision. Whoops.

My mom, the super wonderful Dr. Valencia Martinez, had been scoping out places that might actually try vision restoration surgery. So far it had only been performed on animals – with moderate success. Considering Iggy was roughly part animal, he was willing to give it a shot. Guess he figured his eyesight couldn't get much worse.

"Come on, Max," I heard Nudge whine. "It's your turn." Nudge and Angel had reset the board at the far corner of this spacious patio. They were sprawled out over a wrought iron table, the game of Life and its fifty trazillion pieces dotting every inch of the glass covering.

I turned to face them and found myself staring at Fang. I hated when he snuck up on me like that. How long had he been standing behind me?

He smirked, my face softening with his smile. He grabbed my hand, squeezed it once, then walked us toward the rear of the pool yard. He pulled out my chair and I blushed at his gallantry.

Did first love get any better than this?

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**A/N: Please feel free to review! I so appreciate hearing your comments - good or bad! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Did I really just say that?

For those of you who have skipped a couple books, let me fill you in. For fourteen years of my extraordinarily normal life, Fang was my best friend, right-hand man, one of the few people I trusted. Then, in the past year, he kissed me a few times, I kissed him. Things got weird. Now they weren't. For the past three months we were an item, together, boyfriend-girlfriend – you get it. We were exclusive. But enough on that. Being with Fang was fine – okay – more than fine – but talking about it? Ugh. Made me twitchier than a rabbit on forty pounds of caffeine.

"Awww. Angel, you get twin boys," Nudge gushed as Angel landed on the space that congratulated her for her new offspring. She fished two blue pegs out of the raggedy plastic bag that contained the pieces of my half-sister Ella's Life game. She loaned it to Nudge for our pool side adventures after they spent hours playing it two weeks ago. "What are you going to name them?" Nudge asked – swear that was the shortest sentence of her life.

"I don't know," Angel replied, placing the pegs in her white car. "What do you think, Max?"

Did we really have to name the microscopic blue pegs? Could we not just play the game and enjoy the pool before flying back to the safe house?

"Whatever you want, sweetie." I glanced at Angel. She was stroking the fur of her new Celeste bear. It had a halo and wings – similar to the one that Angel – um – persuaded some stranger to buy her in New York. Yeah – the one that one of Total's new puppies shredded to pieces.

"But they're your kids, Max," Angel disputed, then elaborated after I scrunched in my face with my heartiest _Huh?_ look. She pointed to the pegs in her car. "See, this is you and this is Fang. Fang is driving because well – sorry, Max, but you're just not the best driver. And these are your kids. I'm going to get more along the way. Two more boys and one girl." Angel shifted in her seat and straightened out Celeste's wings.

My face flared up like a maraschino cherry. Swear my eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. Fang squeezed my hand under the table and stifled a chuckle.

Nudge started giggling which brought Iggy and Gazzy to the table to find out what was so funny. Angel continued to maintain her stoic stance on the matter – like she was actually waiting for me to name _my_ kids in the back of her car. So not happening.

"What's going on?" Gazzy asked with all the wide-eyed innocence of a playful puppy.

"Yeah, what's so funny?" Iggy looked around the table at each one of us like he actually knew where we were sitting.

"Nothing!" I spit out quickly.

"Not nothing, Max," Angel said way too seriously. "I really want to know what you'll name your kids. Fang thinks you'll want Ari if it's a boy –"

I whipped my head at Fang and released his hand. "You've thought about this?"

Iggy plopped into a nearby lounge chair and laughed. I was certain his annoying shrill chortle could be heard for miles. Gazzy's head merely darted back and forth from Fang to me to Angel. His eyebrows were still trying to connect with his blond scruffy hair.

Fang's mouth crooked upward and I glared at him.

"Not funny," I seethed.

Angel didn't miss a beat. She continued to share the inner workings of our minds, a puzzle she was desperately trying to piece together.

"He likes Val if it's a girl. You know - kinda like your mom's name, Valencia. But you'll actually need more names than that. You're going to have a whole litter. Five, I think."

Whaaaat? My head was spinning.

Angel's comments threw Nudge and Iggy into a new round of unbridled laughter while Gazzy continued to process this information from the premonition princess.

I looked at Fang, the smile still yearning to inch on to his face. His hand was attempting to cover it now and I swear I saw just a hint of red on his olive complexion.

That did it.

I shot up from my chair and barked, "Okay, we're out of here." I whirled my body toward the pool gate when an unfamiliar voice halted my movement.

"Going somewhere?"

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**A/N: Did I mention how much I like reviews... good or bad? It's just a click away... :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My head immediately snapped up and took in our visitor – actually, six visitors. Fang was at my side in seconds, his body tensing immediately.

"Who are you?" I asked with a mouthful of snide.

The man in front of me, along with his five counterparts, was decked out in a black suit – black shirt, black pants, black shoes – you get it - head-to-toe darkness. The only contrasts to his obsidian outfit were his blond spiky hair and white face. His burly figure rose above us. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall and huge – broad shoulders that looked like they alone could take out someone just by looking at them.

Of course, we're not your typical someone.

"My apologies, Maximum. I did not mean to startle," the dark monstrosity began. I caught Gazzy out of the corner of my eye. He crept up to one side of Fang, his fists coiled at his sides. "My name is Dirk. Dirk Walborn." He extended his hand, like I might actually shake it.

"Uh-huh." I continued to stare at him. "What do you want?" Nudge and Angel were now on Fang's right. Their glares could pierce Satan's soul.

"FBI." Dirk produced a badge and a card – both looking somewhat legit. Of course, the last legit FBI agent we dealt with turned out to be a traitorous Itex groupie with the domestic abilities of a caveman. I shuddered at the memory of Anne Walker.

Dirk continued when I said nothing. "We've been studying you, watching your work for the past several months…" He pulled a wrought iron green pool chair out from a nearby table. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Yes."

"Good," he voiced calmly, then sat, completely ignoring my response. He brought one foot up and rested it against the other leg's knee. Leaning back, he scanned our luxurious surroundings. "Looks like Hollywood is treating you well, but really Max? Do you mind if I call you Max?"

"Yes," I answered again, immediately wondering why. I tensed up tighter with each passing minute. Iggy's strawberry blond hair poked out from behind Gazzy's smaller frame. He was crouched down at Gazzy's ear. Great. What were they planning?

"Great then, Max. This lifestyle can't be satisfying. A movie? I understand you'll be a spotlight for the CSM, but come on. You all were designed for so much more. We want to help you tap into your potential – help you be all that you can be. The federal government thinks your skills would be very useful."

"Uh-huh." I hadn't moved. My eyes darted between the weenie in front of me and his five wannabes that now had guns pulled at their sides. "Nice commercial. What is it exactly that you want?"

"Well, for you to come with us, of course." That single sentence had us all wound tighter than a rubber ball. "We've cleared it with Jeb Batchelder. In fact, he's bringing a van around right now to take all of us to the airport."

Okay – totally annoyed right now…

1) What makes the Dark Knight think we would cave so easily?

2) And Jeb cleared this? Right. He knows the one who makes decisions for the flock is me – and only me.

3) And airport? Did these guys not know about the wings?

4) And just what were Gazzy and Iggy up to?

Seriously outta here.

I shot a barely perceptible nod in Fang's direction as I lit into the black regime.

"What makes you think we'd want to come with you – you know – if we were stupid enough to do so?" I began to count to three with my fingers behind my back.

"Max, Max, Max," Dirk began, an acerbic grin settling on his face. "I don't think there's much choice here for you." He motioned to his posse, who immediately drew their weapons. Automatics of some sort, aimed straight at us.

Crap. What to do now?

Just then, a brilliant light flashed at the far side of the pool. Just enough of a flash to startle our friendly neighborhood whack jobs and to give us plenty of time to leap into the air and take flight.

"Good one, Gazzy!" Iggy screamed. "I didn't think that one would ever go off!"

That one?!

As we beat our wings furiously to soar ourselves out of firing range, another explosion resounded beneath us. Directly beneath us. One that inflicted a huge crater in the cement where we were just standing. I looked down to see three of the black suits take a nose dive into the pool.

"That was totally awesome!" Gazzy cried out, exchanging a mid-air high five with his partner in crime. "Perfect timing, Iggy!"

Moments later, we were in the clear and we used our raptor vision to peer down on the remnants of our poolside getaway.

"Three months, huh, Angel?" I joked half-heartedly. She shrugged. Sometimes her hunches hit spot on. Sometimes they didn't. Like today.

"Guess we won't be going back to that hotel ever again," Nudge huffed, her tawny wings fanned out at her sides. "I was really looking forward to my manicure…"

"I'm sure we can get our nails done somewhere else," Angel said. She was becoming the regular pacifist nowadays. Eerie.

"I guess," Nudge muttered. "But I never got to use the guitar pool. And Ella's Life game has been blown to smithereens." She glared at Iggy. Pointless venture considering he was – well – blind.

"What? Would you rather we stayed and been the target of the black angel of death?" Iggy countered.

"Yeah, Nudge, thanks to us, we're still free to move about the country. Not in the back of some stupid van," Gazzy added.

"Well, you could have warned us about your dumb bomb. That last one practically singed my wings." Nudge fiddled with her nails as she flew through the air. They were painted a reddish-orange, somewhat matching the color of cheeks right now.

"Sooorrry," Iggy huffed. "Next time, we'll let you hang around to be taken out by the baddies."

"Nudge, we'll buy Ella a new Life game – that one was kinda beat up any- " Angel began.

"Who cares about a stupid Life game?"

I threw my hands over my ears for the hundredth time in the past month. Had seriously had enough of this crap. Guess Fang was done too because the next thing I knew, he zoomed out in front of all of us, turned a graceful yet determined arc, and stopped in front of us – mid-air.

His wings beat fervently at his side, utilizing the strokes to stay aloft. Probably wouldn't have needed to though. The heat emanating from him would have been enough to keep his body rising. And his eyes, his dark eyes made the clear blue skies feel like we were flying through a thundercloud. It only took one word with the force of nature behind it for us to freeze, letting our own wings beat to keep us in the air.

"Yo."

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**A/N: Reviews are nice... hint, hint...**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Fang soared off in front of us and I rocketed quickly to catch up to him, the rest of the flock falling in behind at a close distance. He remained quiet for the next ten minutes of our flight and I tried desperately to figure out what was going on inside that deep, dark mind of his.

That deep dark mind that matched every bit of his deep dark body. Black jeans framing his bottom half perfectly, a black tee outlining contours of his dark skinned muscles, his dark –

I am so stupid. Forget I said that.

"Soooo – think those guys were legit?" I asked Fang as I pulled up next to him.

He flashed a shrewd glance, our fleeting eye connection told me we were on the same page regarding the boys in black.

FBI, my tail feathers.

I mean, the badge and mannerisms were fairly authentic; but come on, Jeb? No way he'd allow the FBI to just come and whisk us away without talking to me first.

Did I really just say _my tail feathers_?

For those of you new to this ride - Jeb was my father. Or at least he provided the necessary stuff that biologically made him my father. He stole the six of us away from this horrible place called the School, raised us for two years, then disappeared for another two. We all thought him dead for a long while, then he resurfaced – in the form of "one of them." He worked in cahoots with the evil scientists to "help" us – or so he said. I was still having a hard time accepting his feigned betrayal.

Lately, he'd been on the side of justice – or at least it seemed. He, my mom, and bunch of other "out to save the world" people set us up with all kinds of projects – a trip to a frozen wasteland (aka Antarctica), an air show over Venus (uh - Mexico City), and the latest venture – a movie.

A movie. I kicked myself for the twenty-second time for agreeing to that one.

I looked behind me, eyed the rest of my crew behind me. Nudge and Angel flew side by side, Gazzy and Iggy taking the rear. Gazzy usually took the rear as we were all a little unnerved by his random – um – outbursts.

Fang and I were fifteen. Iggy probably was too, although his unofficial birthday was in a few weeks. None of us knew exactly when our birthdays were so Jeb – in his gooey paternal mode – allowed us to pick our own. Gazzy and Iggy took all of seven seconds to decide on July 4th. Can't imagine why.

Gazzy was roughly nine – his true sister Angel, seven. And Nudge – our token African American – was twelve. Twelve going on twenty-one. In the past three months, she had become more enamored with the high life than ever. Nudge had always existed as the fashion guru (like we needed one), but lately – it seemed that was all she cared about. Nails done once a week, hair styled just as often. And the clothes - ate a pretty penny out of Jeb's suggested budget. Especially when they had to be tailor made to you know – accommodate for _wings_.

Yes – Nudge was becoming a teenager – in more ways than one. Hit this thing called puberty that I would prefer to forget all about. I was grouchier than usual once a month. Nudge seemed to be grouchy on a daily basis.

She was growing up. And I didn't like it.

And neither did Fang.

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**A/N: Sorry for the delay in the update - took a small summer vacay - no internet unless I wanted to pay for it. I should be done chapter 6 by tomorrow - I am so far behind. :( And will hopefully update again on Tuesday. **

**PS - Did you like the JP steal (I'm so stupid... forget I said that) Just love that line - had to use it.**

**And thanks to those of you that review! I really do appreciate it!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Think we can send her back to the Day and Night School?" Fang whispered to me when we were out of earshot of the others. We had taken a quick rest stop outside a convenience store in western Nevada.

I nudged Fang's side.

"What? And give up Reginald?" I joked through bites of my second hot dog. Reginald was our tutor. Our stately esteemed African American tutor. Graduated from Stanford and had a short stint as a linebacker with the Denver Broncos. The CSM hired him to help with our limited schooling – give us some type of education. And that was cool. At least we didn't have to get all snazzed up in some fancy schmancy uniform and parade around all day with prep school Barbies and Kens and well – we were actually learning stuff. Well – I should say most of us were learning stuff. All Nudge garnered from our tutoring sessions were lessons in human anatomy.

Before you say _Ewwww_, allow me to elaborate. Reggie was twenty-seven and treated Nudge like his favorite niece. And nothing more. Nudge just happened to relinquish control of her drool factor whenever Reggie boy stepped in the room. I think the only thing she actually studied during the past two months were Reginald's broad shoulders.

Fang shrugged at my light-hearted comment, then said, "I miss the old Nudge."

"She's still Nudge – just a crankier version."

Fang flicked a _Ya think?_ look my way.

"I liked nice Nudge. Cranky Nudge is getting on my nerves."

"Hasn't Nudge always gotten on our nerves?" I teased, shoving my last Twinkie toward him. The corner of Fang's mouth crooked upward.

"Besides," I continued, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sure we'll experience violence and mayhem soon enough and then the six of us will be back to fighting _for_ each other rather than against."

Fang kicked at the sand beneath our feet.

"Careful what you wish for."

Yeah, really.

I leaned back on the convenience store's brick exterior and crossed my arms over my chest.

"So – who do you think those guys really were?" I asked Fang.

He leaned back against the wall next to me. We watched Gazzy, Iggy, and Angel climb huge outcroppings of rock across the highway. Nudge perched in the shade of one, filed her nails.

"More baddies?"

I shrugged. "Think we should tell Jeb?"

He looked at the flock, then me. "Maybe."

I looked at Fang, my eyes revealing what my mouth wouldn't.

He took my hand, squeezed it. The boys in the dark suits launched our minds back several months ago. To a convo I encountered – one I detailed to Fang. One I wasn't meant to see.

One between Mr. Chu and…

… and Brigid.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Several hours later, Jeb, the flock and I were eating pizza at our safe house in ________________. I would tell you where it was located but well, then it wouldn't be much of a safe house, now would it?

I will tell you this much. The house had five bedrooms, a kitchen that soared beyond Iggy's wildest dreams, and an in-ground pool. Jeb took one of the bedrooms, while the flock split two more along gender lines. We tried splitting ourselves up the first night. Angel with me, Iggy with Gazzy, Fang and Nudge by themselves. After the first night of Nudge coming in and out of my room twenty times whining about how she couldn't sleep, I yanked her double bed out of her room and dealt with her snoring the rest of the night.

Gaz and Iggy – similar story. I don't know what I was thinking putting them in a room together without supervision. Maybe I just had a small glimmer of hope that the two of them had gotten past their "Let's try to blow everything up" phase. Riiiight. After they tried to have a race with homemade rockets that set their bed on fire, Fang moved in. And Gazzy and Iggy took their exploits outdoors.

"I feel like I'm in Hawaii again," Nudge exclaimed through her ham and pineapple pizza. "This is soooooo good." I smiled. She almost sounded like the old Nudge.

The flock dined around an oblong oak table built for like twenty people. We were attempting the whole civilized eating thing but the whole napkin on the lap, chew between bites didn't really suit us. I mean - Iggy could inhale three slices in five seconds, sauce spewing all over the place, and Gazzy burped after each and every swig of his Fanta. Refined and sophisticated? Yeaaahhh – no. Would never see it with this crew.

Jeb disappeared into the kitchen momentarily, returned with two cokes. One for himself, one for me.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Jeb said after I downed half of mine. He sat across from me, looking at me like he did when the flock and I clogged the garbage disposal back at our E-shaped house in Colorado. Clogged it with Gazzy's small collection of Matchbox cars.

"Nope," I said quickly, biting into my fifth piece of pepperoni pizza.

Really didn't want to talk about the failed interview and how we really needed to cooperate with the CSM on the whole movie thing. And Fang and I still weren't sure to trust Jeb with our surprise visitors after the interview.

"Max?" His monosyllabic question was filled with curiosity, frustration, and resignation.

Jeb waited for me to say something. Anything. But I wasn't talking. At least not to Jeb.

Nudge sat to my right and I could tell she wanted to squeal on Gazzy. I flashed her a look that screamed "Don't you dare."

"Heard about your interview."

I flashed a look at Fang. What part of the interview was Jeb talking about? The during? Or the after?

I decided to take a chance on the "during."

"How were we supposed to know the darling intern had aquaphobia?" I reached over the table for another slice.

"Max, you know how important this is. The CSM thinks a movie could bring so much attention to their causes and keep you out of harm's way in the process." Jeb's voice was low, calm – totally irritating.

"We really need for you to cooperate on this."

"Then, you might want to tell your interview team a little bit more about us before they schedule a meeting." I wanted to say more, but I'd said too much to this man already.

"I'm sorry, Jeb. It's all my fault." Gazzy muttered. His eyes were so full of remorse, I wanted to hug him right then and there. "I got her all wet. I'm sorry."

Jeb rose, walked to Gazzy, put his hand on his shoulder.

"Why can't you just do the interview for us?" I snapped. "Then we wouldn't have to act all prim and proper for your dog and pony show."

"Well, I could," Jeb began in his collected, even tone. "But they're not just gathering information about what you can do. These people are observing your mannerisms, your actions. I personally don't see it as a bad thing that Gazzy did a cannonball into the pool."

Gazzy's face lit up. "Really? I can do it again! Let's go outside!"

"No!" Nudge and I exclaimed at the same time.

An endearing paternal smile crept onto Jeb's face.

"But, I do need for the six of you to be somewhat reserved in your actions around the interview team. They don't seem to have the thickest skin."

"You mean like that doofus that Max took apart last week?" Gazzy yelled out. The doofus to which Gazzy referred badgered me one too many times about my hair, my hygiene habits, where I shopped. Like any of that was really important to a movie about kids with wings. After I spit fire on him for a good ten minutes, he ran away like he'd seen a ghost.

Jeb tried not to smile at the memory of intern numero dos. That guy really was a weenie.

"Guess we'll try again next week," Jeb offered. "I tried to get Miss Klementovich to come back, but well, I think she was a little intimidated by some of you."

Klementovich? I knew there was a reason I couldn't remember her last name.

"Well, I hope we're not going back to that hotel!" Gazzy spit out without thinking. A collective SHHHHH spread throughout the room.

"Um – well, cause it was such a lame hotel – I mean the pool – "

"It's okay, Gazzy," Jeb said, his hand back on Gazzy's shoulder. "I know all about your visitors too. We'll discuss them after dessert."

"Dessert?" Nudge asked. I waited for more – we all did. But she said nothing else. She just stared blankly at Jeb while she twirled her long braids, making them look like helicopter blades looking to take off into the air.

"Chocolate chip cookies," Jeb stated, removing his glasses as he spoke and cleaning them with the front of his shirt.

"Cookies? Chocolate chip cookies?" I could barely get the words out through all the drool forming around my mouth.

"Jeb set his glasses back on his nose. "Hmmm. Yes. Chocolate chip cookies. Your mother should be here any minute with a fresh batch."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Did I hear someone say 'Chocolate chip cookies'?"

"Total!" Angel exclaimed. "Where've you been?" Total, our flying black Scottie, hopped up into Angel's arms and began to lick her face.

Total then pranced across the table, managed to secure a piece of _my_ pizza, and returned to Angel's lap. He cocked his head in the direction of a doorway down the hall as he answered Angel's question.

"The missus – well, soon to be missus. Akila likes for me to help put the little tykes to bed." Total sighed dreamily, then ate his slice, savoring each bite.

I heard Iggy stifle a snort. Fang looked at me, wrapped an imaginary string around his finger, pulled it tight. I nudged his side.

"Ohhh, are they sleeping? I wanted to see them," Angel whined half-heartedly and stroked Total's fur.

"All except Angelina. I'll take you to see her in a minute. I'm starving."

"Aw, man. I wanted to play with the puppies!" Gazzy exclaimed.

"I'll wonder if the missus doesn't let him eat until he's put the pups down either," Fang whispered and I chuckled.

"Yes. She does." Angel said with a mixture of anger and melancholy in her voice. Total looked up at Angel, his scruffy little face a mask of confusion. "Total and Akila take turns and help each other out with everything. She feeds them, then he puts them to bed. It's half and half. Right, Total?"

"Right." Total hopped off of Angel's lap and she followed him to Total's bedroom on the first floor. He turned to look at us as he flew up to the door knob. "Out in a minute. Save me some cookies."

After Angel and Total disappeared through the doorway, I looked at Fang. "I don't know that it's always a good thing that she can read minds."

His mouth quirked upward and he brushed a loose hair off of my face. His other hand found its way under the table and to my knee. I felt my cheeks redden as he squeezed it.

Moments later, Jeb excused himself, disappeared into the kitchen. Then, Iggy rose from his chair, maneuvered his way to the stairs near the front of the house.

"Gas-meister, come on. Need you to check something out for me."

Gazzy bolted from his seat, was on the stairs before Iggy. "Is it that –"

"Yeah…" A wily smile exploded on Iggy's face.

"Oh, great. I hope they aren't planning to use my nail polish remover again," Nudge huffed, sprinting after them. "Three bottles. What could they possible need three bottles for?"

I watched Nudge disappear up the stairs, leaned back in my chair. My mind drifted to my mom and I could practically smell the chocolate chip cookies as though their scent wafted from the nearby kitchen. I hadn't seen her but a few times since I pulled her from that underwater bubble Mr. Chu had locked her up in, when she almost died – died because she was a member of the CSM and Mr. Chu didn't want them messing with his global plans for creating new enlarged snot filled, super radiation fish species. And he chose her – because he knew of my ties to her. Seeing those black suits today. What if they tried to do that again? Or what if it was someone else they tried to take? Angel or Iggy or…

… or Fang?

"Yo."

Fang's wordy comment snapped me from my abstraction.

"Sorry. Just thinking about my mom."

Fang continued to study my face, stroked my hair. I started to get all these warm fuzzy tingly feelings throughout my body. Part of me liked it.

Part of me hated it.

I bolted from my chair, strolled quickly through the living room to the bay window at the front of the house. An opaque gold curtain draped over it, accenting the scarlet-hued walls. I peered out through the middle of them, searching for a vehicle that might herald my mother.

"I wonder when she'll get here," I surmised. I turned around and practically jumped out of my Nikes. Fang was in my face, slowly chewing on his pizza.

"Ugh. I hate when you do that," I huffed.

He shook his head with that wry smirk that sent tingles down my spine. And then he continued to study me. Intently.

"What?" I snapped. I started to feel very uncomfortable. Fang just kept – well – looking at me.

After an eternity of ogling, he grabbed the back of my neck and pressed his lips against mine and all the discomfort of the past few moments faded away. My lips became lithe under his. His kiss was tender, but furious and I threw my arms around his neck to press myself closer to him. His hands were in my hair, then on my arms, then my waist.

Here I was, kissing the one person who I totally trusted, who totally got me. Every thought of the day - the interview, the baddies in black, the flock fighting - all that melted away. If someone told me I had died and gone to heaven, I would have seriously believed it.

Suddenly, one of Fang's hands maneuvered under my tee-shirt and around to my back. His tough calloused hand glided over the spot between my wings. He pulled me closer. And I kissed him harder. I wanted him to hold me like this forever. His hand shot back to my waist….

…and then up past my stomach. What was Fang doing?

Suddenly, images of blue pegs in a Life car hit my head like a sledgehammer. Total and Akila and puppies and lots of puppies. A litter. A litter of bird kids…

I abruptly pulled away from Fang and tried not to sprint back to the table.

"I'm sorry… I just… we…"

And then I slid the patio door open, took three long strides, fanned out my wings, and shot out into the night.

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**A/N: Just a teensy bit of FAX there for ya... ahem... **

**Must apologize... finding I'm just not as good at updating with this one as I was my last... will try to do better...**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I flew for at least two hours. I was sure I'd missed dessert. Certain my mom was tired and went to bed. Certain everyone else had turned in. And I was absolutely, positively sure that Fang would be waiting up for me when I returned.

However, as I eased through the patio door at the back of our safe house at half past way too late, I was a little surprised to see my mom waiting at the sofa for me.

I embraced her immediately. It was so good to see her. So good to see her alive and full of color. When we had pulled her out of the dome at the bottom of the ocean, she was practically on her death bed. She was in the hospital for at least a week – just under observation mostly. But it took another two months for her to get completely back to normal. Or as normal as one can get for having a daughter who has wings.

"Want to tell me what's bothering you?" she asked gingerly. We cozied up on the couch, digging into tubs of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, one of my favorites. I was actually spooning out gobs of my second pint after practically inhaling my first one.

"What makes you think something's bothering me?" I said through a big chunk of fudge. Her ensuing smile warmed my heart.

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see. I arrive. You're out for a solo flight. Everyone's wondering where you are except for Fang who brooded and didn't say two words on the whole matter."

"Fang's always brooding and reserved." This time we both chuckled.

"True."

My mom waited a superfluous moment for me to speak while I jabbed at some walnuts with my spoon. Finally, I caved.

"I'm a little nervous about my… um… relationship with Fang." I quickly buried my eyes in my banana ice cream.

My mom pulled me into her side, kissed my temple.

"Tell me about it," she said.

"Well… we're doing fine. More than fine." Ugh. I hated talks like this. "And… well…"

My mom waited another patient minute.

"And well, I just don't think I'm ready to – you know – get married and have a flock of bird kids!" I huffed, then sank down into the couch pillows as far as possible.

My mother stroked my hair, then turned me to face her.

"Max, you're only fifteen. There's no rush on anything," she paused before continuing. "Have you felt pressured to… advance your relationship?"

I shook my head. I didn't really want to tell her what Fang almost did earlier. And that I think I might have liked it.

"Well, then maybe you're just putting too much pressure on things." She sat back into a corner of the couch. "How do you feel about Fang?"

Oh crap. I had never actually discussed my feelings for Fang… out loud.

"I… we… well, we're just meant for each other. You know – soul mates."

"Yes, but how do you feel about him?"

My eyes were on everything but my mother. I hated conversations like this.

"Well, I'd pretty much take a bullet for him." My mom cocked her head and shot her eyebrows to the top of her head. "And… I… I'm…. uh pretty sure I love him." My face got hot. I felt so, so stupid right about now.

"Then, I think you just need to relax, go with the flow. See where this ship takes you." She hesitated, stroked my hair again. "But… uh… when you two do decide to – you know – take things a little further, would you talk to me about it first. I don't think you're quite ready for a little flock of Max and Fangs either."

Okay – now my face was the color of a kickball. My mom grinned at my embarrassment.

"Hmmm. I wonder if they make specific birth control for kids with avian DNA," she teased. I looked up at her and couldn't help but smile. Seriously had the coolest mom in the world. I mean – who jokes with their kid about baby bird prevention?

My mom rose, took my empty carton from my hands, walked toward the kitchen.

"I'm beat. We'll catch up more tomorrow. On our way to Los Angeles."

"Los Angeles?"

"Yes. Starlight Productions has started casting. Wants CSM input on their choices. And yours too."

Great. Another fabulous day in sunny California mingling with the rich and famous. Ugh. At least I'd get to spend it with my mom.

"You should probably get some rest too. We'll get an early start," my mom added. "But I think someone's been waiting to talk with you."

She motioned to the front of the house and I knew exactly who was waiting for me. And where.

Great.

Might as well get this over with.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I walked outside the front door of the house and looked to my left. Then to my right. And left. I spun around. No sign of Fang.

"Fang?" I whispered loudly.

"Yo," a voice said from the direction of the porch swing. I looked left again and saw nothing.

Just then, Fang shifted his arm and his silhouette came into view. He'd been sitting on the swing the entire time. I had forgotten I was looking for the _Master Blend_. Fang could conform to his surroundings. Like a chameleon. Sometimes a useful skill; mostly, an annoying one.

We both stared at one another for a protracted moment, both of us wanting to speak and knowing exactly what we should say, yet we remained silent. Finally, Fang patted the seat beside him as I broke the silence.

"Sorry," I muttered, not moving.

"You haven't done that in a while," Fang said quietly, referring to my quick disappearing act. His voice was low, guarded. A pit began to form in my stomach.

"I know." I still hadn't moved.

After another discomfiting silence, Fang rose, charily walked to my side. His hand grazed my cheek and that pit in my stomach was suddenly attacked by butterflies.

He embraced me and all the nagging thoughts of permanence were suddenly not so distressing. I felt whole. Complete. Fang completed me. I loved it. Loved him. Did I need someone to complete me? No. Yes. Maybe.

Ugh. My mom was right. Just relax, Max. Enjoy the ride.

I squeezed Fang tightly, whispered another "I'm sorry" into his chest. He just stood there, held me, kissed the top of my head. Finally, Fang disentangled his arms, looked at me with a bemused smile, and reminded me why I loved him.

And hated him.

"So - you going to run off every time I try to touch you?" he teased, backing away toward the swing.

I scowled. "Maybe," I barked, my face reddening – and not all from anger. He smirked. "And what if I do?"

He hesitated by the porch swing, then sat, a rare smile stretched across his face. "Then, I'll be waiting right here for you to come back."

I stared at Fang, shook my head. He would wait for me and all of my idiocy. Had already been through a countless number of my flights of fear – when he'd kiss me, I'd run away, return and not talk to him for an eternity. And he was telling me he'd still wait for me. I didn't have a middle name, but I'm sure if I could give myself one right now, it would be schmuck.

"I'm not going to do that again," I murmured, approaching him. I sat next to him on the swing and he put his hand on my knee. "At least I'll try not to."

He smiled again, leaned back into the swing, arms crossed behind his head. I turned and leaned my back into his side. We rocked on the swing for several minutes in silence, just existing in the comfort of one another. We were both happy.

But, as you know, far be it from me to experience happiness for too long.

Just then, a reflection of light in the windows of a car parked across the street caught my eye.

A loud blast suffused the air, causing Fang and I to jump off the swing and stagger into the small front yard. We observed a splattering of glass and chunks of brick taking off in all directions.

And then, the top floor of our safe house burst into flames.

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**A/N: Hope you all had a great fourth! I'll try to update by Tuesday. I just had another story attack my brain as I slept last night. That makes five that are swirling in my head and eager to jump onto the written page. I'm going to be soooo busy. :D**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"It wasn't us! I swear we didn't do it!" Gazzy yelled as he and Iggy took off out of their second floor window, Nudge and Angel following at a close distance.

"I don't care!" I barked. "Down here now!" Fang and I were already running inside the house. Bright orange flames danced across the roof. It wouldn't take long for the fire to reach the lower level. My mom and Jeb could fend for themselves, if they were awake, but Akila. The puppies. I needed the flock's help to save their teeny tiny cute little faces. And not that I really cared about them all that much. Okay – maybe a little. But they were innocent pawns in whatever game that whoever was playing with us.

Jeb was in the dining room when we rushed in. He secured his laptop, grabbed some files, looking up only to acknowledge our presence.

"Your mother's working on the puppies. She's going to need some help," Jeb spit out quickly. He extracted his keys from his pocket, rushed the front door. "I'll start the van. Why don't you meet me out front?"

I nodded as I ran down the hall off of the great room that contained the living and dining rooms. The door to Total's room was wide open and upon entering, I saw that my mother already had three puppies in her hands. Total carried a black and white Scottie pup by the scruff of its neck while Akila struggled to get to all fours.

"I got Akila," Fang quickly offered, and then picked up the ninety pound Alaskan Malamute. Yes – interesting picture, I know. An extremely large snow dog with a twenty pound Scottie. How they concocted a litter of puppies – okay I really didn't want to think about that. Stranger things _have _happened. Like a flock of kids with built in wings.

I picked up the remaining two puppies, gingerly placed one in Iggy's hands as we did an about face toward the door.

"Ewww. Thanks, Max," Iggy grimaced, clutching the grey pup by its neck and holding it several feet in front of him. "No peeing on me, Gaston, got it?!" he said to the sleepy puppy. Just how did the blind boy know which puppy he was holding? Gaston was the only grey one and Iggy had this uncanny knack for identifying the color of an object with just the touch of his hand.

He quickly trailed Gazzy back out the door, the rest of us sprinting behind them. We stormed through the front door of the house, began placing puppies and mama in the back of the Jeb's black van.

"Total!" Angel cried out as soon as our black winged Scottie emerged from the safe house. He flew into her arms and she carried him the rest of the way to the van. "I was so worried about you!"

"Who did this?" Total asked the air. "Who perpetrated such an atrocity?" He buried his face in a paw. "My Vogues! I lost my Vogues, my Elle, and my latest copy of Elegant Bride. Akila had just narrowed down the choices on the bridesmaid dresses." Total humphed, Angel smoothed out his fur.

"It's okay, Total. We'll get you –"

"Angel, where's Nudge?" I snapped, realizing, upon performing a head count, our tawny diva was MIA. Fang's head whipped in my direction.

"I told her not to go, Max. I told her we'd get her new ones," Angel explained.

"New what?" Fang asked, approaching me.

I stared back at the house from our position out on the street. Everyone was in the van, ready to take off, needing to take off. Everyone except Nudge. Nudge had disappeared back into the big flaming ball of orange to search for her one and only pair of very expensive Manolo's, gold five-inch heels that Nudge had worn everywhere except to bed since she'd bought them with her own money a month ago. Money she'd won from a radio contest in which she knew the answer to every question about legendary pop star, Michael Jackson.

I hastily scanned the top floor of the house, searching for a place unscathed that would be easy for me to fly into. And…. my futile hunt produced nothing.

Oh well.

"Max!" I heard several concerned voices yell as I ran three steps out toward the street and leapt into the air. I ignored them. It'd been several minutes since Nudge flew back into the house. Something was most assuredly wrong. And I needed to find my precious chocolate tween before some evil fate befell her. Something worse than me killing her for being such a total superficial dolt.

I flew toward the house, desperately striving to avoid coils and puffs of black clouds that drifted up into the night sky. A window toward the back of the house looked inviting and I threw out feet and smashed through the glass with my sneakers.

Shards of glass stabbed me through my jeans as I eased through the top floor bathroom window. I ran towards the door and then winced as my butt met ceramic tile.

"Ugh! This is why we need to clean up around here!" I shouted to no one, gathering up a half bar of used soap that _someone_ had left on the floor.

Suddenly I felt tough hands under my arms and Fang stood me upright. He had drifted in behind me, saw my graceful backwards lunge through the air, and was now helping me to my feet. My right-hand man had my back – again.

"I don't think there's going to be much left to clean up after this," Fang noted flatly.

"Thanks," I muttered, then rushed through the door. We hit the floor immediately as our vision became instantly cluttered with a fog of orange and black. The two of us clambered down the hallway to the girls' room as fast as possible, holding our breath to the point I think I turned purple.

"Nudge!" I screamed as we hit the portal to my room, exhaling a huge breath as I yelled for her.

Fang and I crawled around the room, called for her several times, yet heard nothing in response. Finally, as I rounded the bed she slept in, her right wing and leg came into view.

"Fang! Over here!"

I scaled the distance between Nudge and me quickly. She wasn't moving. Just lay motionless under a huge support beam that had pelted her cranium.

Fang and I lifted the beam off of her frame and I hastily checked for a heart beat. My hand moved frantically from her wrist to her neck to – yes! I got one!

"I got a pulse, Fang. Faint, but it's there. Let's get her out of here."

Fang tenderly picked up Nudge and we moved toward one of the bedroom windows near the side of the house. I climbed through it and Fang attempted to slide Nudge through the opening. Her wings were all sprawled out and the endeavor was like trying to squeeze a tootsie roll through the eye of a needle. But he managed and I hoped like Hades that her wings weren't damaged. At least not too badly.

I took her in my arms, drifted toward the ground and away from the house, Fang right behind me. We laid her down on the ground, felt her wrist again and found a very faint pulse. However, as Fang leaned over her tall skinny form, I grew fearful our rescue was for naught.

Nudge, my dear sweet materialistic Nudge.

She wasn't breathing.

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**A/N: Had to get my MJ plug in... Hope you liked. Sorry for another cliffhanger, but if you've been following me, you know that's my style. I will try, try, try to update by Thursday. And thanks for the reviews!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Nudge didn't move. Didn't stir. After all of our vigilant efforts to save her, Nudge still might not make it.

Fang hunched over Nudge's lean skinny form, performed mouth-to-mouth as soon as I lay her on the ground. I stared at her. She was truly beautiful – tall, slender. If she didn't have wings, Nudge could very well be the next Tyra Banks. And that's what she wanted. Well, at least as of late she did. Once she realized that existing as a normal twelve year old – attending school and cheering on the pep squad – was so far out of the realm of our reality, she settled on a new dream. Being a model. A movie star. And the prospect of a movie being created _about_ us. Well – that was one step closer to a new found dream.

But now. Now I wondered if her dream would ever come to fruition. Her gorgeous dark braids were singed and her face took on a lighter shade of mocha. I was seriously going to kill her for venturing back into a burning house for a pair of shoes.

_Come on, Nudge. Breathe! You are not allowed to die!_

The next three minutes were gut-wrenching. I paced back and forth at Nudge's side. My stomach felt hollow and I was still coughing up a lung from my own smoke inhalation. I looked down at Fang and he was a rock. Mr. Steady. Relentless in his efforts. Just calmly applied round after round of breathing into Nudge's mouth with never a sign of relinquishment. I loved him so much right now. I would never ever run from him again.

A barely audible cough snapped me from my whimsy. Nudge coughed again, then again. And a few more times after that.

"Nudge!" I exclaimed, squatting beside her.

Nudge's eyes slowly opened and she took in my face, then Fang's. Her features were drawn, but she was alive. Alive and safe beside me. I was so happy I wanted to hug the whole flock right now.

"Max, I am so sorry," Nudge said, regaining her breath, regarding the burning house several feet away. "That was so stupid. I don't know what I was thinking. All I could think about was those shoes and how it was the first thing I'd ever truly bought with my own money. And they were just the cutest shoes and…"

I helped her to a seated position and embraced her gingerly.

"S alright," I murmured. "Just don't be stupid again."

Nudge hugged Fang enthusiastically, reminding me instantly of a time when Fang would tease Nudge, she'd squeal, then he'd dangle a chocolate bar in front of her and she'd wrap her arms around him like he was the best big brother in the world. Seemed like a lifetime ago when Nudge was so young and joyful and naïve when in reality, events like that only occurred just months ago. How did she grow up so fast?

"Max!" I heard two bird kids scream. I spun away from Nudge, saw Gazzy and Iggy approaching us quickly.

"Is Nudge… is Nudge okay?" Gazzy asked quietly. His face was as pale as if he'd seen a ghost. Iggy had a similar look of panic on his features.

"I'm fine," Nudge muttered. Fang helped her to her feet. "Except I inhaled a pound of smoke. And I think my wing is broken." She fluttered her right wing. It flopped disjointedly from her shoulder. "Ow. Guess I won't be flying for awhile."

"They look pretty bad," Fang said flatly. "Might just have to detach them permanently." He tugged lightly at her good wing – his face registering total impassivity. However, Nudge's – totally aghast.

"What?" she whimpered, barely squeaking out what was now the shortest question of her life.

"Fang's kidding, Nudge," I said, elbowing his side. He cracked a half-smile, while I strived not too. Although, it did warm my heart slightly to know that Nudge didn't want to lose her wings. Yes, folks – at one time our chocolate Avian-American actually wanted to cut off her wings – all so she could be normal. Not happening. Well- the normal part at least.

Yeah- normal. Normal would involve not being mutant bird freaks or having your _safe_ house blown up every couple of months.

"Come on, guys," I grumbled, moving them back toward the street in front of the house. "Looks like we'll be looking for a new home."

I glanced back at the burning house as we reached the street.

Humph. Wonder if there would ever be a place we could call home.

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**A/N: Thanks as always for the reviews. I won't be updating for a while as I am embarking on a whirlwind tour of the eastern seaboard. :D But I will try to write in my absence. Should be posting again in a few weeks.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Max-ee-mum Ride!"

I jolted my head around quickly to see a very large man in a very white suit ambling toward us. Us being the flock, Total, and my mom.

"Oh, Max-ee-mum. So very glad to finally meet ju." This strange enormous man snatched my hand, shook it so hard I lost feeling in it. "And dees must be dee flock!" He looked around at Gazzy, Iggy, Fang, and the rest with a smile larger than his pumpkin-sized face, red cheeks gushing like we were his own children that he hadn't seen in fifty years.

"Please forgive Dimitri. I am executive producer of new film that ees about ju. And dees ees Starlight Productions." He gestured at the high ceiling lobby in which we were standing. "Soon to be beegest production company in vorld." He paused a moment, studied us, waiting for us to react to what he thought was the _eighth wonder_ of the world. I'd been inside castles in Germany and witnessed hot springs in Antarctica. Inside Saint Paul's Cathedral in New York City. Trust me. This was not the eighth wonder of the world. But it was clean and big and not currently threatening claustrophobia so I guess Starlight Productions was okay. At least for the moment.

The friendly neighborhood Dimitri led us through the lobby and to an elevator that took us to a series of large rooms on the fifth floor. Eyes fell on us as we walked, conversations halted on headsets as we passed by. And the stares weren't filled with repulsion at the six grubby homeless kids who'd look like they'd just been through the fire (which of course we had). People looked at us like we were celebrities. _Those are the kids with wings,_ I imagined them thinking_._ I glanced at Nudge, her mood on an instant upswing. The fire had singed her hair and the support beam had left her with a droopy wing that we couldn't scrunch up, but her eyes bulged brightly and her smile itself illuminated the room with more power than the florescent lights above us.

Gazzy whispered details of everything we passed to Iggy: the large fountain in the lobby that I know he was dying to jump in, the Aquaman costume that hung in a display case. Angel stroked Total in her arms as they walked, Total yapping about his upcoming wedding (whatever). Fang and I merely hung back and observed. We were both twitchy from the people gawks and I could tell by his concentrated game face that his mind was in the same place mine was. Trying to deduce exactly who tried to blow up our house and have us all killed. Who was after us now?

Food provided a momentary respite from my worries as it always seems to do. The spread in the first room we visited rivaled a royal feast and with our usual grace, we dug in like we hadn't eaten in a month. My mom hob-nobbed with the CSM folks while Dimitri barked orders at twenty different people, all at different times within the course of ten minutes, and in three different languages. After my fifth doughnut, he made his way toward me, a tall skinny red head latched on his arm. I wondered if this was Anna Banana's replacement.

"Max-ee-mum!" Dimitri shouted, though he was only three steps away. I felt Fang's immediate presence at my side. "Dees ees Chelsea. Chelsea Hargrave. She ees daughter of CSM vice-president and new upcoming Hollyvood starlet. And she play ju in Max-ee-mum movie. Ees fantasteek, no?"

My mouth dropped opened and I tried to casually place a hand over it so my half-eaten doughnut wouldn't fly out. A barely audible Fang snicker pierced my ear. I instinctively nudged his side – so hard that maybe he wouldn't laugh for a month.

"Vell? Vut ju theenk?"

"Um… okay –"

"We think she's perfect for the part," Fang said, still working overtime to suppress his laughter.

"I let ju talk," Dimitri said, then scooted off to startle some other lackey's soul.

"Enchanted." Chelsea stepped toward us and continued her supercilious babble. "Max is it? I've been studying your background for the past week, but I thought perhaps I'd benefit with some one-on-one time with you." She pompously eyed me from head to toe. "I see a shopping venture is out of the question. Perhaps lunch?"

Fang grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Good thing, too. It almost went in the newest red-haired wonder's face.

"And you must be Fang?" The RHW stepped in between us, forcing Fang to drop my hand. "Hmmmm. Perhaps some alone time might be in order with you as well."

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**A/N: Sorry for the extended hiatus... not going to lie - just unmotivated to write this story as of late (I like it - just have two other stories I'm crazier about). Anyway - trying to put a two update each week goal on my agenda... hopefully I will achieve it.**

**Story note: I will admit I have not researched production studios as much as I would have liked before I wrote this so please forgive any fallacies. Also, I have decided that Dimitri is like a cross between Russian and Greek - weird accent, but I like it.**

**Enjoy - and thanks for reviewing!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"It is not funny," I seethed under my breath, nudging Fang's side for the tenth time in twenty minutes. "Look at her. She looks nothing like me."

Fang, Nudge, and I were standing behind cameras in a smaller room than the one in which we previously snacked. The RHW stood in an area in front of the cameras, a green screen providing a ceiling to floor backdrop behind her. The screen version of me read lines with various blond children, each vying for the part of my darling Angel. The five girls that auditioned so far epitomized innocence in their voices, their faces – striking resemblances to my seven-year old mind reader, but none of them seemed to be able to grasp Angel's dark side. Yes – she had one. Rarely showed it – except for those intermittent moments when she couldn't control your mind so that she could get her way.

But these girls could pull off the Angel look. Unlike the girl they hired to play me.

"I think she's beautiful," Nudge whispered to me. "And I think you're beautiful. I mean, you two are the same height and they can dye her hair to match yours." Nudge brought a thoughtful finger to her lips. "Or maybe, you could just color yours red. Oh Max! You would look great as a redhead!"  
"What?!" I cried out, drawing the stares of the gaffers or key grips or whatever those light people were called and camera men _and_ several others in the room. Fang almost laughed out loud. Thank goodness my mom escorted Iggy and Gazzy on an impromptu tour of the studio. Iggy's chortles could be heard from here to Nevada when he heard about the RHW and discovered she'd be playing me. Can only imagine how he would have reacted to that Nudge remark.

"I am not dying my hair!" I groused quietly.

"Why not? I think it would look great." Nudge played with a strand of my dirty blond hair. It had lightened up a little bit with the sun recently giving it a natural streaked look. "Actually, never mind. I like you just the way you are."

"Thank you," I heaved in mock appreciation.

"Me too," Fang whispered in my ear.

"Shouldn't Angel be in here? Shouldn't she have a say so in who plays her part? I wish they'd just let me be me. I can act _and_ I'd be a natural. They wouldn't have to pay me. Just knowing I'd be on the big screen and everyone would be asking for my autograph." Nudge sharply turned her body toward mine. "Do you think people would like me? Would they want my autograph?"

"I think you'd make a wonderful Nudge and yes, I think the whole world would want your autograph. But I don't think we have much say so in the matter," I reminded Nudge.

"Well, then what are we doing here?"

"Input. Or so they say. I think they're just appeasing the CSM by bringing us on board. They didn't even wait to ask my advice on who'd be playing me because I would have not chosen that person. She doesn't look like me. She doesn't even sound like me."

"Angel, are you saying that you influenced that woman so she would buy you the bear?" my wannabe chirped in a shrill voice. Oh yeah, that sounds just like me.

The sixth Angel of the day replied in a low dark voice, "Celeste. And I really, really wanted Celeste. More than anything in the whole world."

Okay – now that was a teensy bit more believable.

"Who's _that_ girl?" I asked, craning my head over the scattered assistants in front of us. "She sounds just like Angel."

"That's because she is Angel," Fang replied glumly.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Wha-at?!" I immediately pushed through camera men to get a closer look, Nudge and Fang on my tail, Nudge yapping in my ear.

"How come she gets to audition? I want to try out? Can I please, Max? I'd make a great Nudge."

"SHHHH!" I whispered harshly at Nudge, and then latched onto Angel's arm. "Excuse us. This one's not available."

The whole room quieted instantly, eyes stared at me like I'd just been caught shoplifting.

"But, Max. I really want to – "

"Angel, you cannot be in this movie. We do not have – "

"But vy not? She ees perfect!" Dimitri exclaimed as he approached us. He ruffled Angel's curls and placed a hand on her shoulder. "She vould make a vonderful Angel."

"That's because she is Angel," I sneered. Good thing I didn't concern myself with what others thought of me. These people looked like I had just committed the highest form of sin imaginable. "Come on, Angel. We're leaving."

"No."

I could hear Nudge's gasp where it caught in her throat. Fang closed in on a wall, trying to blend in. Not too many people dared to say no to me. Well, at least not those who didn't want to suddenly experience the wrath of Max.

"What?"

Angel's face became rigid. "I want to play Angel." Her voice was so low and cold. I really wondered at times if there wasn't a demon inside Angel's body.

That was terrible. Of course there wasn't.

I sucked in a breath, realizing this was one of those battles I had to pick, and this war would not easily be won. I bent down so that I could see eye-to-eye with Angel, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Angel, you know we can't be directly involved with this. It would put us and everyone here in harm's reach. You remember what happened last night." Angel pouted in her seven-year old way, nodding her head slowly. "I know you would make the best Angel ever, but sweetie. It's really not in our best interest right now."

Angel cast me a look mixed with understanding and resignation, then strolled over to where Total was watching from beneath a camera, scooped him up in her arms.

I rose and looked around semi-apologetically. I expected glares to stab me from all directions. Instead, I heard clapping.

"Dat vas bee-u-tiful," Dmitri cried out through his hefty applause. As soon as he put his hands together, others followed in obliged response. "Dees ees how eets done, people! Dees ees vat I vant!"

Angel took my hand as I eerily took in our audience. I looked at Fang. He shrugged. Nudge wore a broad grin on her face.

Dmitri approached us, squeezed Angel's cheeks. "Vill ju all plees come read lines for us. It give actor true idea of vat I look for. So realistic ju are. Ju do thees for me, no?"

Nudge squealed in delight at the idea. I shot a wary glance at Fang knowing full well what I'd see written on his face. _Not over my dead body._

"I think it would be a good idea, Max," Angel said sweetly and not at all in a mind controlling way. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered at my ear, "Those other Angels were terrible. They need our help."

Dmitri waited for me to answer, saw I hedged the issue. "Of course, ve could just have Chelsea come stay vith ju for few days."

I cast a sharp glance at the double – d red head that was _supposed_ to look like me. She smiled at the idea, then she smiled at Fang.

My decision on this issue was a piece of cake.

"Um, we'll be back tomorrow to read lines."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next three days were full of fun and sunny Los Angeles. Well, they were full of Los Angeles. It was definitely not sunny (rained for three days straight) and it was not anywhere near fun. The flock and I spent most of our days under the bright lights of Starlight Productions, mingling with the big-wigs and the wannabes. Reading lines (never thought I'd have that as a tidbit for a future memoir) while Jeb worked on procuring a new safe house. The three days did provide mucho time for reflection though as I currently had a lot to think about.

1) Who or what blew up our safe house

2) Dirk Walborn and his merry band of dark suits

3) Total's imminent wedding (that was a glimmer – didn't care to reflect too much on that one)

4) Nudge's new fascination with acting

5) and the big chested RHW who fixed a lusty stare on Fang whenever they occupied similar space

That last one permeated my cerebrum until I thought my brain would explode.

Today I enjoyed the extreme pleasure of reading lines with Fang as Dmitri corralled a gaggle of GQ's auditioning for Fang's role in this nonsense. Imagine my surprise when we walked into the screening room and Dmitri shoved scripts in our faces.

"What is this?!" I spit out after reading the proposed fiasco for today's agenda.

"Vat ees vat?"

"Dis… I mean… this!" I waved the script in Dmitri's face. My mom extracted the pages from my clammy hands.

"Vell, thees ees a scene from da movie. Vee need to see if chemistry ees right vith Chelsea."

"Vell, ju can just forget it!" I snapped and stormed out of the room.

The _scene_ that Dmitri wanted Fang and I to _model_ was none other than – ugh – I can barely say it, let alone think it.

Picture this –_ submarine. Angel swimming just shy of said sub in radioactive waters at unfathomable ocean depths with monster fish with whom she could carry on conversations but who still looked like they wanted to eat her. Enter Max pulling plan crazy and stupid out of her back pocket. Gill-girl Max shall brave the ocean depths to rescue or assist or whatever she needed to do to support her beloved Angel. Everyone tries to stop her. She's crazy. She'll never survive!_

_The only one in this scene that doesn't try to stop her is Fang, her right-hand man. He has her back._

_Max sees him for who he is – the one she trusts her life with. The one she is completely in love with. Her soul mate._

_And so what does Max do? Slaps a long drawn out kiss on him that would prove a little risqué for the PG-13 crowd._

Okay – so I know this really all happened. You've read the books. You know it to be true. I was fully aware that I locked lips in front of the entire flock and various others (including Brigid – one of the few bright spots). But did we have to share the mucho embarrassing episode with the whole world? I tolerated Iggy's merciless teasing for five weeks about that impulsive encounter. Finally, finally stuffed it far back in my brain so that I could forget about it and wham! Here it was again – revisited in the written form.

If you haven't guessed this already, I was not much for PDA's. Rarely cried. Hardly told people I loved them (I was working on that). About the only emotion I wore on my sleeve was anger. And now they wanted me to be all – you know – with Fang. Did they really think I was going to kiss him in front of fifty some people when I barely felt comfortable kissing him in private?

And how was that moment relevant to the movie anyway? This little CSM project was supposed to be a sixty minute documentary about the bird kids that saved the world. Now it was more like a suck-u-mentary. A two hour action-packed adventure that just had to include a little romance. Ugh. I hated Hollywood.

Five minutes into my inner harangue, Fang made his way out of the screen test room and found me pacing and sulking in the hallway.

"What?!" I barked at him, my eyes seething.

His mouth crooked a half-smile before he approached me and said the only four words that could have possibly soothed me at that moment.

"Let's get outta here."

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**A/N: Sorry for the delay - I planned to submit this Saturday, but for some reason could not upload this. Weird. Anyway - other apologies... I've only read MAX once and granted I have a fairly photogenic memory when it comes to stuff I read, but I am certain some fallacies exist in what I just wrote - just pretend I know what I'm talking about. **

**PS - the suck-u-mentary line I stole from Tibby (Traveling Pants) - couldn't resist - just needed to issue the disclaimer. :)**

**I will try to update by Thursday - if I can... :/  
**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Fang and I flew for what was clearly several hours in a sky that was not so clear. I hated flying in the rain, but I would much rather soar through some grey cumulonimbus than endure even one more minute with Dmitri and crew.

The two of us held hands as we wheeled over the coast of California, neither of us saying a word. We didn't need to. For three hours we merely existed in the comfort of one another. Some days I wished it could be like this all the time.

"Think we should go back?" I asked as we circled the bay at Monterey for the third time in the past hour.

"I've got a better idea," Fang said with a crooked smile. "Follow me."

The two of us dropped down on the narrow beaches that surrounded the harbor and walked into town. The rain beat down steadily on the large fishing community, the sparse pedestrian traffic reflecting the blustery weather. Our attire mirrored it as well. Can't tell you the number of stares Fang and I received as we ventured into a bakery on Alvarado Street. Or perhaps the wandering glares came as a result of our enormous pastry purchase.

Farther into a newer part of town, we bought new clothes at a Wal-mart and I changed out of my soppy wet ones in one of the store's restrooms, stuffed them into the plastic bag that had held my purchases. We carried money all the time now – our… er… creative shopping days long past us. In fact, I think the last time the flock had to acquire something for nothing occurred before I learned that Dr. Martinez was my mom. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

I met Fang outside the store in new jeans and windbreaker, shot him a quizzical stare.

"So what's next? Any other stores the benefactor of your shopping spree?"

"Nope," was all he said. He took off running and leapt into the air, his sleek black wings pumping immediately with the take off. I filched a reflective pause to gaze upon him before taking off myself, marveling at how, on this grey gloomy day, when all Hades was breaking loose on a tiny set in LA, Fang was the bright glimmering ray in the eye of the storm warming all my troubles away.

Ugh. Did I really just think that? Does love really just reduce you to pure mush?

I shook my head, ran and leapt into the air, soaring underneath Fang just moments after I unfurled my wings. We flew several miles down the coast beyond the smaller town of Carmel and touched down on the rocky Big Sur Coastline. I followed Fang to a huge outcropping of rock just off the water. The rain reduced to a light drizzle, the clouds a misty haze in the distance. With our raptor vision we could see miles into the jewel-blue sea and across the inlet I observed a handful of sea lions sleeping on a pyramid of rocks.

The two of us merely sat for a long while, staring intently at foamy waves lapping against the sand. I was just about to dig into my fifth croissant when Fang put his arm around me and pulled me into his side.

"I could live here," he said, staring out to the ocean.

I rested my head on his shoulder. "Yep. Me too."

He looked at me, his face stone. "So why don't we?" I sat up, opened my mouth to protest, but he continued. "I mean, maybe not here, but maybe… maybe we finally get away from all this. Do our own thing."

I lowered my head, wishing so much I could agree with him, wishing some days it was just the flock. That my destiny wasn't out there slapping me in the face. That I wasn't meant to save the world.

"You know we can't do that," I mumbled.

"Yeah we can, Max," he replied, his voice doggedly determined. "You've already saved the world. Several times. You think this movie will actually help? And if it does, do they really need us to make it? I know you aren't enjoying any of this."

I stood up. Fang and I had this argument at least once a week. And I don't know why. I always won because a) I'm always right (well - most of the time) and b) I just couldn't disappoint my mom. The CSM was on a roll with public awareness and the movie would be a huge add to that. I knew this. Fang knew this. And as much as I hated that I couldn't just neglect my fate and fly off with him into the sunset, I hated even more that he kept dredging up a dead issue.

"We should get back," I said flatly, brushing dirt off my jeans.

Fang stood up with me, tried to take my hand. I shrugged him off and continued, "I'm sure the flock's wondering where we are. My mom might be worried."

"She knows where we are," Fang said, a look of impatience plastered on his face. I threw him a curious glance and he elaborated. "I called her. While you were in the bathroom changing. Let her know where we were and I checked on the flock." I stared at him in shock, pleasantly surprised that he had thought to call my mother. And then the shock wore off. I turned away from him, prepared to leap into the air.

Fang latched onto my arm quickly, held on tight. "They're fine," he said. They're auditioning my role without us and they're fine." He gave me a stern, exhausted look and I allowed him to take my hands. He lowered his voice, softer, yet still brusque. "See. They don't really need us to do this movie. And we shouldn't. It puts right out in the open again. People know where we are. How to find us. It's not safe."

"But we can't just abandon the project now."

"You had no problems leaving it this morning," he said, his voice still slightly gruff.

"You know why I left," I sulked, turning my face away from his.

He cupped my chin, forced me to connect with his eyes. "I know. Although_ I_ would have had no problem with it." A small smirk crossed his features and the lightness of his statement warmed me, poking a tiny hole in my wall of obstinacy.

Fang's voiced dropped yet another octave when he spoke again. "But you know I'm right about this." My head dropped. Fang _was _right. After an absence of action for three months, we'd been attacked twice in the past five days. But I just couldn't bail on my mom now. Not with her hopes for bringing on new backers for CSM with the filming of this movie. And we could take care of ourselves. We fared alright in the past year. I mean, we were still alive, weren't we?

Fang continued to talk when I didn't - a role reversal that only occurred about as often as a leap year. "Your mom. She'd understand. If we backed out now."

I opened my mouth to say something, but never got the chance. Within seconds of Fang's last statements, we were swarmed by a mass of black clouds dropping out of the sky at rapid speed. Several landed to our left, then our right. Some behind us, in front of us. Some of those big black bundles merely hovered several feet above us.

Upon closer inspection, Fang and I discovered that these black clouds weren't really clouds. They were men. Black men dressed head to toe in black. And they had guns (black also). Semi-automatics of some nature. And those guns? Those guns were aimed straight at us.

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**A/N: Sorry it has taken a lifetime for me to update. This particular chapter has seen about five rewrites and I am still not completely satisfied with it, but I just needed to get over myself and move on... And I have discovered how difficult it is to write three different stories at the same time while doing a million other things. I am not going to make any promises as to when I shall update next other than that I will try to do it soon! :)**

**Have a great weekend!  
**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"What are you thinking?" Fang asked out of the corner of his mouth. The baddies kept dropping out of the sky, drawing closer to us.

"I'm thinking Angel needs to go back to premonition school," I snidely replied. Three months? Yeah, right. Ever since she made that pronouncement by the pool, we'd been attacked on a regular basis.

The corner of Fang's mouth quirked upward and we both scanned the sea of darkness. Minutes ago, the serenity of the Big Sur baited us, lured us in, its breath-taking sapphire ocean and milky-white foam providing clarity to this hazy day. Now, the sky was ensconced in obscurity. A murkiness that Fang and I couldn't possibly tread. I mean, come on. They had guns. How were we to dodge that?

"Well, you know," I said as I threw my arms up in surrender. Fang appeared slightly stunned at my hasty capitulation. "We can at least find out who's behind all this. See our good friend Dirk again."

Fang's quizzical smirk transformed into a knowing one and we allowed the men in black to prod us to an awaiting van at the top of a large crest. They pushed us into the back of the van and secured our hands and feet, the two of us joining a lone figure sitting expectantly in a black swivel chair.

The person's back was to us, but just as the door to the van shut behind us, the chair turned, revealing our captor. And my jaw tried very hard not to scrape the thin layer of rug on the van floor.

"Sorry about that," the voice from the chair said to us. There was a hint of sympathy in the voice, but I wasn't fooled by the synthetic tug at our heart strings. I shut my mouth from the shock of the moment and tried really hard to not let the scowl on my face explode into a stream of obscenities.

I glanced at Fang, his face impassive. Typical, but I really, really expected some sort of astonishment to set in through his eyes, his stance. But nothing. It was almost as if he somehow knew this blow was coming. Knew what I suspected to be true after our last encounter with Mr. Chu.

"After Mr. Walborn failed to bring you in, I knew I needed to step in myself. We tried to stake you out at the studio in LA. Gather all six of you at once. But then you took off. Just the two of you. We followed you as far as we could. Then lost you." Brigid Dwyer shifted in the chair, crossed her legs. "Fortunately, we'd been tracing your mother's cell phone, Max."

I looked at Fang and he flinched slightly.

"Didn't take us long to find you outside of Monterey. Aerial views provide so much. And I know how much you two enjoy the beach." Was that a hint of sarcasm in her voice?

"What do you want from us?" I finally asked with a pound of menace.

"Why, to protect you. There are a lot of people out there that want to hurt you. And the flock. This movie is too much exposure for you."

"I thought you were working for the CSM," I snapped. "Or are you now working for Chu or someone else who's trying to destroy the planet?! Or have you just gone completely mental because Fang chose me over you?!"

Okay – I really cannot believe that last question flew out of my mouth, but the look on Brigid Dwyer's face was priceless. Revealing too. The embarrassed shock that initially set into her eyes confirmed any suspicions I had over her having an inappropriate thing for my Fang.

Ugh. Did I really just say "My Fang"?

I felt Fang's bemused eyes bore into me, but I refused to look at him, mortification setting in. My cheeks felt hot soooo I heated them up with more spitfire.

"So just who are you working for these days, Brigid? Or are you fulfilling your own personal agenda?"

Brigid rose, crossed to Fang and me, her face rigid.

"I am working for the Federal Government in areas of… research and exploration. But I still maintain close ties with the CSM, Max. I still support their causes." She circled Fang and me as she continued. How I wish my hands and feet weren't bound right now. I so wanted to kick her square in the mouth. The thought at least was warming, even if the interior of the van registered the temperatures of an icebox.

"This movie is being terribly mishandled. It was to be a documentary. Now it seems Starlight Productions has turned it into a major movie deal. Your presence on the set should not be required as much as they deem it. Your own mother has protested it, but has lost out every time." Brigid stopped in front of me. Looked me in the eyes. "Max, we all fear you are in danger." Her eyes averted to Fang. "All of you."

"So that is why you kidnap us at gunpoint. Why you blow up our safe house," I said. Oh how I wanted to spit in her face.

"The safe house was not of our doing."

"Well, then who?" Fang asked calmly.

Brigid fixed her eyes on Fang. They softened as she explained. "We're not really sure. We've been looking into that since it happened. But we do know this. No house will be completely safe right now. We know there are groups out there who wish you dead. Mr. Chu is still at large," she flashed a grin in my direction. "And no, Max. I am not working for him.

"We want you to stay at Nellis Air Force Base for a while. While the FBI assesses the danger. There are plenty of rooms. And we'll find you a tutor there that can continue your schooling."

Fang and I looked at one another. My heart was screaming _No!_ but my mind already acquiesced to this arrangement. I knew where Fang stood. He just wanted the flock to be safe.

Brigid unshackled us while continuing to lure us into a deal that was pretty much sealed. "You'll have lots of open space in which to fly… unauthorized, but of course we'll gain special clearance for - "

"What about the rest of the flock?" Fang asked.

"We've got people picking them up right now. I spoke with Jeb shortly before we apprehended you. He's on his way to the studio. He seems to feel as I do."

I looked at Fang. Good thing we tacitly complied to go. Looks like the decision would have been made in favor of Las Vegas' Air Force Base regardless.

"Looks like we're headed for Sin City," I said dryly. From the City of Lights to the City of Sin. Hmmmm. Maybe while we're out there, we could persuade Total and Akila to elope. I mean, weirder things have happened, right?


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"I liked Reginald," Nudge grimaced through a not so low whisper. I nudged (get it) her side and threw her a commanding scowl both of which Nudge seemed completely oblivious to as we sat in the presence of our new tutor. "He was smart and funny and I didn't even mind that he talked about football and well… this one's not even a boy. And look at those glasses. Somebody needs to tell her that Coke bottles went out with the eighties. Well, they were never really in, but still… couldn't they get us a tutor that at least had some style and didn't they-"

I turned to Fang with a sharp _Help me_ look. He merely shoved his hands further into his pockets and averted his attention to some F-16's taking off outside the window.

The six of us had been hanging out in a large conference room at Nellis Air Force base for the past hour engaging in the not so wonderful world of mathematics. We were mostly at different levels, but closer than our age differences would dictate. Seeing as how we spent most of our natural born life on the run or in the air or well… school just didn't happen very often for us. Just didn't have much time to focus on the finer points of long division or Trigonometry. But we were natural born problem solvers so math for us was kind of a no-brainer.

So our new tutor, Candace Bell – seventeen year old braniac daughter of Colonel Sherman Bell – started us with Algebra. That was over a week ago. And while Nudge, Iggy, Fang, and I stared at letters for an hour each morning, Gazzy had rightfully regressed back to math before the alphabet attacked it and Angel – well, she'd moved on to Calculus.

"I like Candy," Gazzy whispered to Nudge. "She gave me two Snickers bars when I got a hundred on my homework."

"Dude? You did your homework?" Iggy gasped. Actually we all were slightly stunned – minus Angel – the mind reader who certainly already knew that.

"Yeah," Gazzy sighed. "I'm going to do my homework every night. I loooove Snickers." He propped his head onto an elbow, and stared dreamily at our new tutor who was at another table helping Angel or possibly Angel was helping her. Weird.

Nudge, Fang, and I exchanged _Wha-at?_ stares. Angel stifled a giggle. Iggy just cleared his throat.

"How much longer do we have to do this?" Fang asked, closing a book in front of him. "I'm ready to fly."

Yeah," Iggy added, closing his book with a slight reluctance. "Bring on the Blue Angels."

I looked at Fang then shook my head at Iggy. I was about to open my mouth to protest his inane pronouncement, when our sweet-mannered tutor beat me to the punch.

"Wow, can you really fly that fast?" Candy asked as she sat down across from Iggy, at once re-opening his book. Iggy shot up in his seat, his white cheek bones donning two red saucers. "I saw them once… in Seattle. It was really cool but really loud. I think they can fly five hundred miles an hour. I heard you guys did air shows. Can you seriously fly faster than the Blue Angels?"

"Well… er… well, maybe not... uh…" Iggy was lucky to stammer that much out before Angel interjected.

"_We're_ doing an air show tomorrow. You should come see it."

We all abruptly spun towards Angel – except for Iggy who still gaped at Candy.

"We are?" Nudge exclaimed gleefully.

"Yes!" Gazzy pumped his arm.

"Since when?" I snapped. Fang threw me a look that screamed _No freaking way_.

"Candace's father is going to brief us on it this afternoon, before they take us to Area 51," Angel explained.

"Area 51?!" Gazzy's scruffy blond hair was starting to stand up again.

"Uh-huh. But Gazzy, try not to get too disappointed. There aren't really any hidden aliens." Angel turned her lucid blue eyes to Fang and me. "And don't worry Fang. The air show is over restricted air space. For military personnel only. Well, except for Candace. She's going to be our special guest because she's the best tutor ever." Angel flashed Candy a genuine smile and then I marveled as her grin grew two sizes as she looked at Iggy. I thought for sure Iggy would have thrown Angel some subtle "brown-noser" comment, but he was still off in la-la land.

"That'd be great," Candy said, pushing up her glasses. "Oh wait… did you say tomorrow? What time tomorrow?"

"Ten. Which will give you lots of time before your movie starts."

And with that comment, Iggy's eyes snapped in Angel's direction, then just as quickly, fell to the floor.

Just so you know – I sometimes hated how Angel could read minds and splatter it out there tactlessly. I could just see Iggy's heart sink to his sneakers. And in case you haven't noticed, Iggy seemed to have a little crush on our seventeen year old tutor. As did Gazzy. Candy wasn't much to look at – kind of like a young librarian – brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail, hid her pasty white face behind super-size glasses, even wore a skirt and heels for our tutoring sessions. But she was probably one of the nicest people we've met besides my mom and Ella and seeing how Iggy really couldn't see what she looked like anyway – yeah – I guess I could understand the attraction. Personally, she could have looked like Medusa. I was just thrilled that she wasn't another hot busty red-head throwing herself at Fang.

But now Plain Jane apparently had a date. Way to go, Angel.

"Ooooh! What movie are you going to see?!" Nudge asked, then continued for what seemed like five minutes before Candy could answer. "I wish we could go see a movie. I feel like a prisoner… all cooped up… I mean we can go outside and all and fly and stuff, but we're not allowed to leave the base. And Vegas is so close and I can't even go and have my hair streaked. Do you know how long it's been since I had my nails painted? Professionally?" Nudge breathed a second to fan her freshly polished nails in front of her. "I wish we were still in LA. They had a Louis Vuitton store and a cute little place where they'd paint your nails and bring you pink lemonade in one of those cute little glasses with an umbrella and… And we'd still be working on our movie and… what movie did you say you were seeing?"

"I didn't," Candy said through a chuckle. "But I think my friends want to see that new Jim Carrey one that just came out." Her eyes fixed on Iggy. "Maybe you'd like to come."

"I wanna see it! Can we go, Max?"

Candy's gaze diverted to Gazzy. "You can all come if you want. I'll see if I can't get my dad to clear it."

Part of me just didn't think that was going to happen, but the ginormous grin on Iggy's face told me to keep my thoughts to myself.

"Oh, wow," Candy said, eyeing the clock on a side wall. "We ran over. I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to get us off topic."

"No problem," I said. I closed the Algebra book I'd been issued and frowned at the cover. Yeah, really. No problem.

"Wow, I gotta go," Candy said, springing to her feet, grabbing her bag. Iggy jumped up almost as soon as she did. Candy stopped at the door. "I'll…uh… I'll see you tomorrow morning, I guess."

We exchanged good-byes and Candy dashed out of the room like she was late for her own wedding. I don't think she was five feet out of the room when Gazzy exclaimed, "I love school!"

Angel giggled while Nudge flashed him a befuddled stare. I was about to whip out a thermometer and take his temperature when I noticed Fang stroll to the other side of the room and put an arm around Iggy's shoulder. Iggy hadn't moved his eyes off the door since Candy left.

"They just can't keep themselves off you, can they big guy?" Fang teased.

My heart smiled. Maybe a few weeks at an Air Force Base wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: Happy New Year! Yes - this is one of my resolutions - to finish what I've started. We'll see how long it lasts. Haha. Reviews please!**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Saturday morning brought clear skies and a raging desert sun. And with that sun a relentless heat that almost (note the almost) had me dreaming of gloomy rainy Los Angeles and wishing clothes were not a necessary part of our wardrobe. Even the microscopic blast of air we experienced as we ambled outside of our makeshift barracks could not ease the twenty pounds of sweat that sought to cover my face. And just how Fang could stand wearing black, black, and then more black – beyond me. My white Hard Rock LA t-shirt and denim shorts suited me just fine.

My only consolation – a free-wheeling flight just ten minutes away. Angel was spot on (imagine that) with her premonitions and at our briefing yesterday afternoon, Colonel Bell asked us to perform for his troops. Gazzy and Nudge could barely contain their excitement but I could feel Fang's tension as he stood beside me. When I snuck a glance at him through my blond wisps, his jaw was tight, his lips steel. Fang abhorred the air shows – and rightfully so. I mean, we did almost get taken out by a one-armed sniper and treated to an M-Geek smashing fest at our last two. But still – kinda hard to turn down Colonel Bell – especially since they'd put us up for the past week and a half and catered their food allocations to our ravenous appetites.

"Candy's here," I whispered to Iggy as we prepared for flight.

"Candy's here? Really?!" Gazzy exclaimed, craning his head toward the makeshift bleachers strewn out by an airstrip.

"Yep," I said. "And she's got a whole bag of snickers if you can behave yourself." Yeah – last thing Nellis Air Force Base needed was a Gaz bomb that would linger for days.

"K, Max!" Gazzy galloped ahead toward Fang and Angel who led the way toward a platform near a crowd of hearty gatherers, all decked out in matching fatigues.

Iggy and I shared a smile and I noticed an extra spring in his step.

"Max, I was thinking," Nudge began and I rolled my eyes into my head. "I was thinking that since we're going into town to see a movie tonight maybe we could walk around a bit too and see just a little bit of Las Vegas. I'm sure it would be safe and no one would really even notice us. I bet there's lots of people and we could just blend in and - "

I put my arm around Nudge's shoulder. "I think we might be able to look around… just a little. Maybe you can spring for a pedicure."

"Yes!" she squealed. "I know just where to go too." Nudge continued to speak her plan to the skies as she bounded away from Iggy and me.

The six of us reached our destination, scaled a set of stairs that led us to a small stage. We reached Colonel Bell – an incredibly tall, domineering man who with one look could scare a private into the latrine. He had big bushy eyebrows underneath stately glasses and a grey mustache almost like Hitler's. Fortunately, that was the only parallel to the ex-psycho world leader. As soon as Jeb and Brigid dropped us off at Nellis (and disappeared just as quickly, thank God), Colonel Bell welcomed us with open arms, treated us like we were his own flock… er… children.

On the stage, Colonel Bell performed introductions even though most everyone knew who we were and that we'd been on the premises for over a week. No one knew the true reasons behind our air force furlough – including us – but Colonel Bell deemed it a mission of high importance to national security and a top secret one at that.

After the brief intro, music blared from several loudspeakers and Angel jumped into my arms and I vaulted her into the air. Her wings fanned out immediately and she took several strokes to propel herself upward. Fang performed a similar feat with Gazzy who threw his arm up, pointed at the sky and screamed, "To infinity and beyond!" Fang launched himself up behind him while Nudge and Iggy filched running starts on the small stage before stretching their wings out and joining the others a few hundred feet up.

And then there was me. I ran to the bottom of the steps and away from the crowd. When I was a safe distance away, I turned to the already astounded crowd and sprinted toward them at full speed. Just when I was a telephone pole's length away from the bottom riser, I threw my body upward, unfurled my wings and glided straight toward the spectators. When I was but inches from them, I turned my body upward and soared directly over them, kicked my speed into hyper drive and united moments later with my crew in the clouds, already in a tight V formation.

Flying. Freewheeling through the clouds. Soaring through the skies.

Nothing. Like it. E-ver.

"See anything?" I asked Fang as the two of us slid behind the other four, inverting our standard V. He'd been scanning the vicinity as soon as we hit the two foot mark. That was fifteen minutes ago.

Fang cocked his head slightly toward me, diverted his eyes in the opposite direction.

"Nope." That one word carried a pound of tension.

"It's restricted air space. The flock should be safe."

"Yep," Fang replied, without conviction. He scoured the area below us – again.

"You're not going to be any fun tonight, are you?" I half-heartedly teased, then sped out of the way of one of Gazzy's spontaneous mid-air tumbles.

Fang flashed me a fleeting quarter smirk, then reached for my hand. He grabbed my other hand so that we were facing one another. "Finale," he stated as though he was really ready to get this over with – which of course he was. We elongated our bodies vertically as Nudge and Iggy soared around us. Angel flitted like Tinkerbell, zipping from one side of us to the other, looking like a hummingbird who just downed ten cups of coffee. Gazzy hovered above us. Fang and I drew a final circle with our bodies and just as we separated, Gazzy stopped flapping and dropped between us. Simultaneously, Fang and I zoomed upward at super sonic levels and then rocketed directly above the hordes of camis. Gazzy stopped his fall in the nick of time and escalated above the crowds as well, practically kicking out the glasses of a lanky private in the stands.

After twenty minutes of orchestrated flight and three Gazzy dive bombs later, the six of us brought it home. We landed one by one at Colonel Bell's side and as soon as Angel touched down, the crowd broke into tremendous applause. Would never tire of that.

Colonel Bell's moustache faded into his beaming grin and he at once strode toward us, patting backs and shaking hands. Candace ambled our way, repeating her father's gestures. Some of the folks in the stands were indisputably fazed, but most engaged in cheers for the new bird kids on the block.

I glanced at Nudge. She and Gazzy milked the ovation with encore flips and short bursts through the air. Candace engaged Iggy in some sort of convo as my attention drifted toward Angel. Her angelic features bore none of the playfulness from moments earlier. Instead, her stoic gaze fixed on Fang.

He noticed her stare as well, quickly darted his eyes about the landing strips, then returned his gaze to Angel, squeezed my hand, and said.

"I don't have a good feeling about this."


	21. Chapter 21

21

Here's the short list on things that could completely send me over the edge:

1) Nudge

2) Talking about my _feelings_

3) Not knowing who the bad guys are

4) Sitting in a dark movie theater with only two exits at my disposal

That last one was about to put me in bird therapy for a long time.

Fang, Nudge, Angel and I sat in the worst place imaginable in a movie theater – the back row. Angel was on the outside of Fang, holding his hand. I was on the other side, gripping his left. And not because this was our first movie date and I was being all gushy sentimental either. Nope. I'd been massively twitchy for the past hour and his hand served as my personal stress ball.

Nudge flanked my outside although I really wished I could send her to the front row. If I thought that child talked too much on a normal daily basis, nothing compared to what I experienced with her right now.

"OMG!" she squealed. "OMG, Max! Did you see - I know he did not just – What?! That car just flew over that - Okay, she should so not wear that dress with those shoes."

Yep. Welcome to my nightmare.

Candace and her friends sat in front of us. All girls. Maybe another reason I squeezed Fang's hand. Especially when the tall blonde one flipped her cascading curls so that she could turn around and check him out every few minutes. There were two others, a short stocky one with psychedelic blue braces and another who freakishly looked like Candace's twin. Maybe she was. If you haven't already noticed, I wasn't much of a stickler for particulars. Didn't even know their names. I'm sure they told us when Candace first introduced every one, but I was too concerned about the ginormous fifty-plex theater and its many exitless rooms.

Gazzy sat next to Iggy, Gazzy running the play-by-play of the movie quieter than Nudge. Not that Iggy was paying attention. The second Candace patted the seat next to her, I knew his mind would be all over our homely tutor. Probably a good thing he couldn't see the movie.

"Your missing a good part," Fang snickered in my ear, causing the blonde beast to whip her head around with a pout.

"The only good part will be us getting out of here."

"Max," Nudge whispered too loudly. "I'm going to the bathroom." Nudge was already stumbling over my feet.

"Not alone you're not." I jumped up behind her, crawled over Fang and Angel, thankful for the minor getaway.

Nudge dashed into the bathroom just down from our theater and I almost made it in after her when a shadowy figure at the end of the long corridor caught my eye. Our gazes met fleetingly before he ducked into a nearby theater.

Hmmm. What could somebody in a monkey suit possibly be doing in a movie theater? Extra formal date perhaps?

Crap. Two choices here. Ignore the surreptitious stranger and trail Nudge into the bathroom. Or follow him.

I'm sure you can pretty much guess which option I went for.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

_Toy Story 2_ or _3_ or whatever graced the screen as I stealthily slid through the entrance to theater number 5, trying to catch a peek of Mr. Monkey Suit before he slithered out a side exit. Crap. He was almost at the door to the outside world. If I didn't hurry up, I would lose him for sure.

I stumbled over feet, threw out twenty _Sorry_s, and about did a face plant after I tripped over an aberrant Coke cup. When I made it to the door on the other side of the packed theater, it was still slightly ajar from the mysterious man's exit, and with a quick mental pat on the back, I headed out into the darkness.

Peering around in a dimly lit back parking lot, I spotted my guy. He was running at top speed, sprinting towards a black van that zoomed his way. I took off after him, but within seconds, black-suit tumbled into an open door, and the van screeched its way out of the parking lot.

Rats. Now what? Do I go back and tell Fang and the flock what I saw, leaving us to wonder yet again who was chasing us and why were we always being followed. Or do I find out for myself? What I really needed was a cell phone so I could call Fang mid-air while I _told_ him what I was doing. Of course, then I'd have to endure silence on the other line as Fang nonverbally communicated his protest.

Fang was so going to kill me.

I backed up several feet, took a quick run, and hurled myself into the air. Within minutes, I soared over the van, trying to keep pace, while trying not to be spotted by the fifty million people on the streets of Las Vegas who were blatantly committing one too many sins. Grafitti artists ran rampant in what was apparently a bad side of town and directly below me some couple's make-out session evolved into something beyond the PG-13 level. Ew. I might never let Fang touch me again.

Trailing the van through the city and out into the desert, I flew higher and allowed my raptor vision to kick in. The van was one of the few on the roads. No way I could lose it. I'd simply follow it to wherever it was going, find out who this group of baddies were (there seemed to be so many), and return to the flock.

Easy-peasy.

Yeah, right.

The van traveled onto US 93, and then onto Extraterrestial Highway (yes – it really is called that). Finally, after way more time than I should have been gone (Fang was definitely going to kill me), the van pulled up to a chain-link gate, passed a security marker, and zoomed inside.

Area 51. What could they possibly want with us at Area 51? Use us to design new prototypes for recombinant bird kids? Or maybe they wanted to infuse us with alien DNA. Didn't know. That's why I was going to do a little sneaking around.

Only problem – restricted air space. Okay – technically not a problem. I mean, it might be if I was built like an airplane or even a small helicopter, but I had the body of a bird. Should blend in just nicely with the rest of the hawks and large birds that hovered over the area.

Flying just high enough to not be spotted by the black van and its who knows how many monkey suits, I trailed the van to a large white building with several small buildings shooting off to the sides. The van pulled inside the large building. I landed many feet away, then ran toward it.

The metal gate through which the van entered shut even before I touched down and there were no windows on this massive building whatsoever. I scanned the perimeter for a grate, air shaft, anything I could sneak in through. The back of the building provided an entry, a small metal ventilation shaft that I squeezed through, tucking my wings in tight.

I crawled through large pipes, small shafts, a seemingly endless maze. Occasionally I'd hear voices, scurry toward them, but saw no one on my futile search.

That is, until someone saw me.

I never heard the bullets, only felt them when they penetrated the skin on my left leg. I saw my shooter briefly before he disappeared from the room directly below me. Stifling a shriek of agony, I crawled across the grate through which I was shot, got myself at least down that shaft and rounded two more before checking my wounds.

Two bullets. One in my femur. One in my calf.

Well, at least it wasn't my wings.

Crap.

Fang was really going to kill me.

**A/N: Sorry to have been majorly MIA. I'll try to be better about updating now that summer is here. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Dragging my leg through the crazy maze thingie, I tried not to make a sound, tried not to leave a trail. Little hard though. My leg had two geyser blood spurts and it hurt like (as Angel would say) h-e-double hockey sticks. I really should've stopped to tend to my wounds, found something in these shafts to wrap my legs, put pressure on them, but the unfriendly noises increased beneath me with every twist and turn I took in the ventilation ducts. I needed to get out of here. Get out of here now. And I should've been out of here ten minutes ago. My internal GPS had some sort of blinders on and I felt like I was spinning circles.

Craning my head around a corner and down a long pipe that forked out in three ways at the end of it, I recognized this particular channel. A burst of excitement shot through me and the pain in my leg subsided momentarily. I'd definitely been down this pipe before. And I think it was the way out.

I crawled over insulation, frigid metal grates. Knocked my noggin on a few pipes squeezing through a more narrow section. I saw a familiar line of pipe work. Then I saw the jacket I'd left near my entrance so that my windbreaker wouldn't brush against every pipeline and give me away. I could almost taste freedom when a familiar voice halted my escape.

"It ees a disaster! Everthing vas running smoothly till jer idiots decide to move dem. Now. Now dere's no more movie. No more!"

Dmitri?

"Your precious movie will be back on schedule for production within the next week," sneered another familiar voice. "Find another actor for the little one and focus on publicity."

"Ve already publicize! Ve release movie next March. Ve need to shoot de rest of eet!"

I heard a large sigh and several murmurings. The voices were close. But where? And I knew that other voice. Where did I know it from?

My brain tried to signal me to keep moving. Get out of this place. Go get the flock. But my body slowly turned, drawn to the voices like an ill-fated magnet.

I crawled backward through the shaft, then went down an off-shoot I'd not yet traversed. Minutes later, I found myself gawking through a grate at a conference room, staring at way too may familiar faces. Faces I thought I'd never see again.

Dmitri continued his expressive tirade. But it wasn't Dmitri. He had the same voice and the same annoying laugh, but the thick Greek moustache and beard that concealed half his face was gone. As was the thick curly black hair. And his size fifteen extra large body was reduced to a triple X.

I looked around the room, my throat constricting to the width of one of Nudge's fancy coffee stirrers. Mr. Chu sat stiffly in an over-sized black chair, annoyance plastered on his features. Brigid stood to his left (big surprise – I would never trust her) and white coats dotted the outskirts of the room like skinny Oompa Loompas waiting to roll out the next deviant child. The Uber-Director was there too – who I thought was dead. Maybe they just created a strong facsimile.

The familiar voice spoke again and as soon as she uttered my name, I looked down and caught her completely discernible eyes.

"Max… we've been waiting for you." Anne Walker tried to affect a maternal grin.

Just then, the grate slid out from under me. I smacked the floor and tried not to yelp, but pain seared through my leg with fresh injury.

"Jes, Maxeemum Ride. Vee have been anxiously avaiting jur arrival."

My old German nemesis Ter Borcht stabbed a syringe in my leg. A swirling wind rushed through my head.

And then everything went black.

**A/N: Couldn't help it... Ter Borcht's my fav baddie. :) Reviews much appreciated!**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The minute Fang saw Nudge, he knew something was wrong.

She hedged up the ramp, shaking her head, peering up around the corner. Flicked glances behind her. Before she climbed the stairs to their location in the back of the theater, she scanned the mass of people, examining each one with dire scrutiny.

Fang sprung out of his chair, but he couldn't seem to get his legs working. Angel latched his hand and dragged him down the aisle.

"Let's go," he said to Iggy and Gazzy.

"What?" they exclaimed together, inviting immediate shushes from several rows in front of them.

"This is the best part!" Gazzy said.

Fang ignored him and continued a slow trudge down the stairs.

"Fang!" Nudge tried to whisper as Fang pulled her by the arm out of the theater. "Have you seen Max? I went to the bathroom and when I came out, she wasn't there. I thought maybe she had to go so I went back in and then I thought maybe I took too long and she came back here, but—"

Crap. Fang's heart sunk to his stomach.

"We'll find her, Fang," Angel said. "I'm sure she's fine…. No, I know she's fine."

The hesitant smile on Angel's face told a different story.

He whipped his face to Nudge. "Did she say anything? Anything?"

Nudge sucked in her chest, shook her head. Fang didn't mean to scare her. He just… how could she be gone?

"Dude! What's the deal?" Iggy cried out as he and Gazzy burst through the theater doors. "Me and Candace were just getting cozy. I was about to make my move." Iggy clasped his hands in front of him and cracked his knuckles.

"Yeah!" Gazzy yelled. "They were about to blow the evil dudes out of their submarine. Did you see that bomb they made? Man, I really wanted to see what kind of firepower that thing had." His head snapped to Iggy. "Wait – what was that about Candy?"

"Cool it," Fang said and everyone stopped. Fang's eyes darted left, right, then he took off down the hall and back into the lobby.

"What's with—"

"Max," Fang heard Angel say. Nudge didn't say anything, for once. Probably feeling guilty, as though Max's disappearance was all her fault.

Max wasn't in the lobby. She wasn't in any of the other theaters, down any halls. She wasn't outside anywhere either. Fang's gut stirred, Max's absence telling him what he already sensed to be true.

Someone was here. Following them. And Max must've discovered whoever it was and followed him. Or them.

And not told him where she was going.

Or maybe she couldn't. Maybe they got her. Maybe…

Maybe Nudge was going to get that pink cell phone she always whined about.

Fang stared blankly at the cloudless night, wondering what to do next.

_WWMD?_

_What would Max do?_

"Fang?" Angel whispered, baby-stepping toward him.

"Iggy. You're in charge. Take everyone back to Nellis. Fast."

Fang took a running start, leapt up into the air and unfurled his mammoth black wings. The cool night wind felt good on his face as he rose higher and higher. He swiped a large circle around the theater, then around the city. He didn't know where Max was or where she was heading.

But Fang did know this.

He was going to find her.

And when he did, he was going to wring some sense into her big stubborn head.

Fang's swallowed the massive lump that formed at the back of his throat.

He just hoped there'd be someone to wring some sense into.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Three hours later, Fang still hadn't seen Max.

He'd flown over Sin City one too many times and soared across every part of the neighboring desert imaginable. Even took a tour of southern California. Saw plenty of coyotes and one too many drunken pedestrians, but no Max. His stomach shriveled with each passing minute.

Fang didn't know what time it was when he returned to Nellis. One? Two maybe? Perhaps Max returned. Perhaps she just did some reconnaissance and flew back. Maybe she'd just gone out for ice cream.

Yeah. And maybe Gazzy would learn to control his impulse flatulence.

His black hair flopped across his dark features as he soared in across the restricted air space of Nellis Air Force Base. He was tired, his muscles tight with the futile flight, his mind drained from scouring the possibilities. But most exhausted was his heart.

Max had done this a million times before, he tried to tell himself. Flew off on a whim. Sometimes in pursuit of baddies. Sometimes to avoid her heart. And she always came back. Always.

Yep. Always.

Yet the more Fang tried to communicate that verity to his mind, the sicker he felt.

As he flew over toward the barracks, their temporary home the past week and a half, a figure on top of their building caught his eye and Fang's heart skipped a beat.

Max.

He touched down, sat down next to her where she perched on the edge of the building. He slid his hand atop hers and for several minutes, neither one said a word.

"You said you wouldn't do that again," Fang said, enjoying the slight summer breeze on his face and the comfort of Max's touch on his hand.

"I know."

"Familiar foe or new baddies?"

"A little of both. Chu, your pal Brigid. A whole lot of black-suits. I followed them out into the desert."

Max paused, then reluctantly pulled up the pant leg of her jeans. She had four bandages, two on the front and back of her calf. The others on her lower thigh. Fang's eyes grew a half-notch larger.

"I'm going to start a bullet collection," she joked after explaining what happened. "And I owe you a new wind breaker. Had to use it to stop the bleeding."

Fang's jaw tensed and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"We're getting cell phones," he muttered and Max's eyes widened in disbelief. "The prepaid ones. I can't - "

Fang couldn't finish his sentence. He didn't want to finish his thought. He hated seeing Max hurt. Yeah, they'd been through much worse, but when we're they going to catch a break? When would everyone just leave them alone?

As if sensing his thoughts, Max curled up into his side, nuzzled her head into his shoulder. He leaned his head onto hers and reeled her in tighter, wishing time could freeze.

"Before they… uh… let me escape, they slapped a deal on the table." Max arched upward and fixed a serious look on Fang. "I think we should take them up on it."

Fang's eyebrows arched and his jaw twitched. Bargaining with the bad guys? Not Max's style. Not their style. At. All.

"Must be a good offer. What's the payoff?"

Max disclosed the deal and Fang leaned back on his hands. Max was right. Totally good offer. Too good to be true offer. The rest of the flock would be all over it.

He just didn't trust it.

"So how do you know they're legit - "

"I don't." Max tightened her fists, jumped up and paced the building edge. "I'm… I'm just tired of living like this." She stopped at a corner of the flat roof and stared out toward dim lights on a nearby runway. Fang found his way to her and placed his arms around her waist.

"Me too," he murmured. Brushing her hair aside, he kissed the back of her neck.

She turned to face him, her frustration melting. He kissed her lips tenderly and she responded with animalistic ardor, a passion he'd never seen before. Did she miss him that bad? Maybe she was still a little freaked from her earlier encounter. Or maybe she was trying to convince him to take this supposedly good deal. Hmmm. If that were the case, he'd hold out for a little while.

They kissed for a long time. Fang should have been euphoric, yet something was off. Something not quite right. His kisses dove deeper, searching for something. What? He wasn't sure. It was like battling with a locked treasure he couldn't quite disengage.

This was stupid. Max was back. He was here. With her. They were soul mates.

And yet something wasn't right.

He just couldn't quite place a finger on it.

**A/N: Hehe. Reviews welcome!**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

I woke up in a window-less room, wondering how long I'd been here. I slept in a twin bed next to a metal night stand with pictures. I pulled down my comforter. It had flowers on it. Did I like flowers? I couldn't remember.

I straightened and picked up one of the pictures in a silver frame. A woman sat at a piano next to a girl with blond hair. An older man with graying hair stood beside the piano. He was smiling. He looked familiar. Did I know him? Should I know him?

The girl wore an over-sized sweatshirt. She looked happy. Real happy. I glanced at my baggy nightgown and felt a tightness on my back. I squeezed my back muscles, relaxed, and

Holy crap.

I had wings. Did I have wings yesterday? The day before?

How was I going to know that? I wasn't even sure who I was.

I rose, flapped my wings, and knocked over a lamp on a dresser a bed-length away from me. Thinking I could save it before the lamp crashed on the hardwood, I stumbled over a white sneaker and bumped my head on the dresser, knocking down two more pictures.

I picked them up with myself and saw the same family. The girl looked older, but she still smiled. This time she held a dog, a brown and black bloodhound. Was that her mother with her? She looked happy as well. And very familiar.

The mirror fixed above the dresser caught my eye. As did the person staring back at me.

I was her. The girl in the picture. Same white skin. Same blond hair.

"Maxie?"

_Maxie?_

The door opened and the woman from the picture materialized like she'd just jumped out of the photo and into the doorway.

"Oh, Maxie!" She smushed me into a hug, taking care not to touch my wings. "Oh, thank goodness, baby. Thank goodness, you're awake. We didn't think… never mind, how are you feeling?"

She smoothed my face and ran fingers through my hair as I stuttered, "Uh… okay, I guess."

Mom person sat me down on the bed. "You took such a bad fall. The doctors thought you'd be out of it for a long time. Much longer than this. But they were right! They told us to bring you home and see if sleeping in your own bed would stir up memories and well… here you are, Maxie." Her smile seemed bigger than my pillow.

"Is… is that my name? Maxie?"

A frown tugged at her smile. "Yes, of course dear. Maxie. Maxie Walker." Her hand shot to my forehead, pressed on it in several places.

"And you're… are you my mother?"

She arched back and stared at me with eyes as wide as the mirror above the dresser. "Oh, Maxie," she gasped and swallowed hard. "That fall must've been harder than… I told your father we should've never taken our vacation at the Grand Canyon. 'Too much temptation,' I told him. You… you just weren't ready to fly yet."

I glanced at the white streaks in my wings, fluttered twice as I stared at them. The flapping felt natural. I couldn't fly with them?

As if sensing my thoughts, the lady I guessed was my mother stroked my left wing and said, "We've been trying to help you as best we can for years. Your body weight doesn't want to hold up under them." She turned to me, perplexed. "You don't remember anything?"

My eyes drifted to the mirror as though it may answer her question. After several minutes, I returned my gaze to this mom person I couldn't remember. I racked my brain, not seeming to know much of anything.

But I did know this much.

I did not like being called Maxie.


End file.
